A Wild Race Against Time
The two boys had hardly made a start when they found Sim, Andy, and
even Tubby trotting along at their side, and naturally overwhelmed
with astonishment at the singular action of the pair.
“Hey! what’s all this mean?” cried Sim.
“Where are you heading for?” exclaimed Andy; while Tubby was
gasping:
“My stars! is it as bad as _this_, and do we have to run for our
lives? Will the mills blow up like magazines, Rob, and send
everything sky-high?”
“Listen!” snapped Ralph. “Rob here’s got a scheme. He’s asked me to
go along with him and help out. Now tell us, Rob, what it’s all
about?”
“We must get the car out, you and I, Ralph, and make for your place
like the wind. Don’t you understand, it’s that dynamite your
father’s got stored there, together with the battery for exploding
the same, that we’ve got to have.”
“What, dynamite? Haven’t we got fire enough as it is without trying
to blow up the poor old town?” cried the amazed Andy.
“You don’t get on to my meaning,” pursued Rob, feverishly. “If we
only get back in time to make use of the stuff, we could shut off
the fire from the other section of the town, where all the mills and
workshops are.”
Ralph gave a whoop. Evidently something like the truth must have
flashed athwart his active mind.
“Oh! Rob, you’ve got that old abandoned building in mind, haven’t
you?” he demanded in turn, with a note of exultation in his voice.
“Nothing else,” came the incisive reply, as all of them continued to
run on.
“To blow it up would leave a gap, wouldn’t it?” continued Ralph.
“Just what I’d expect to make by destroying that long rambling
building,” Rob explained. “If any fire jumped across after that, we
could take care of it; but the main lot would be held in check at
the gap. That’s what they sometimes do when a great fire is raging
in a big city. It is the last resort of desperation.”
“I like the scheme!” declared Sim, instantly.
“It sounds good to me!” added Andy.
Tubby, too, may have had an opinion, but he was not given a chance
to express it, for just then they arrived at the garage where the
big car had been left.
“Don’t lose a second if you can help it, Ralph!” called out Rob.
“You bet I won’t, Rob!” snapped the other, as he made a rush in the
quarter where he could see the car standing waiting for them.
“Have the headlights on, too, because we want to make fast time, and
can’t take chances of an accident!” called out the scout leader.
“How about us, Rob?” asked Sim.
“You three fellows will have to stay here and wait for us,” came the
order, and Sim, knowing that Rob always meant what he said, and was
moreover the head of the Eagle Patrol, did not attempt to dispute
his word.
They were keenly disappointed, for nothing would have pleased Sim
and Andy more than to accompany the others in their mad flight out
to the distant farmhouse, some ten miles away, to fetch back the
explosives that might yet save the better part of the apparently
doomed town.
Again Tubby said nothing. He would have gone had it appeared to be a
part of his duty. Tubby was not “hankering” after such a furious
race against time. Besides, what would be the need of five trying to
do what two could just as well accomplish? Tubby could show a streak
of discretion occasionally, it seemed. Then, again, it would be hard
to tear away from that scene of tremendous excitement, the like of
which none of them had ever seen before.
Ralph was very much excited, and this may have interfered a little
with his efforts to get the car out of the garage in the least
possible time. Still, he managed fairly well, though Rob was
counting the seconds as never before, with all that riotous noise
ringing in his ears, and calling for speedy action.
Presently the car came swinging into sight, with Ralph at the wheel.
Rob made a flying leap and was quickly alongside the driver.
“Now hit it up for home, licketty-split, Ralph!” he called out as he
fell back upon his seat in front.
“Good-bye, and good luck, fellows!” cried Tubby, warmly.
“Don’t meet with any accident, whatever you do!” added Sim, for the
loss of the whole town did not count one-quarter so much in his
estimation as would an injury to his beloved chum, Rob.
Then, with a series of loud snorts, very much after the style of a
horse under whip and spurs, the big car darted away.
At first Ralph had to go comparatively slow, because of the fact
that there were many people on the roads, scurrying this way and
that, some of them bearing treasures in their arms snatched from
household effects, under the impetus of their lively fears. Wagons
and other vehicles too were encountered, but Ralph, being a clever
driver, managed to swing around these.
He also kept punching the siren and making a series of staccato
sounds such as you can hear whenever an ambulance, or the vehicle of
a fire-chief dashes through the streets of your city or town in a
sudden emergency.
So as a rule they were given a pretty decent right of way. People
brushed aside even while not able to understand what right this car
had to the road. Possibly it was accepted as an explanation that
perhaps they were speeding for the next town to engage the fire
department in the effort to save poor Wyoming.
Behind them lay the burning town. Rob looked back once and shuddered
at what he saw, nor could he ever dismiss it wholly from his mind.
Often in future nights, as he sat looking into a sparkling campfire,
he would again see in imagination Wyoming burning, with the flames
shooting high in the air, and myriads of flying sparks making it
seem like a grand Fourth of July fireworks.
He bent all his energies to the task of peering ahead, and assisting
the chauffeur keep track of the road, in which they were likely to
meet some sort of obstacle at almost any moment.
“Seems pretty clear just now!” Rob ventured to say as they fairly
flew along at the rate of almost a mile a minute, the old car doing
nobly when Ralph turned on every particle of power.
“Yes, it is, but we’re apt to meet a wagon coming to market any old
time!” the other shot back at him, never taking his eyes from the
road ahead even for a second.
Rob understood. He knew that farmers coming to sell their produce or
hay in the local markets were likely to start away from home during
the night so as to be in the square before peep of dawn. Yes, there
was always a chance that they would meet one or more of these
“hayseeds,” as Sim always called the honest tillers of the soil,
perhaps asleep on his load; though such a thing was hardly possible
with all that brilliant illumination in the sky, as though the world
were coming to an end; and, besides, the muttering roar that sounded
like a battle, Rob thought.
The headlights were none too brilliant, though answering ordinary
purposes. Rob could have wished they were twice as strong, since
that would have given a longer range, and they could distinguish any
vehicle on the road much further away.
Around certain bends in the road they swung with a vehemence that
almost took Rob’s breath away. He had told Ralph to make the utmost
speed, and the other was taking his words literally. Several times
Rob almost thought they would skid, and bring up in a heap; but
owing partly to good luck as well as Ralph’s superior knowledge of
the pilot’s duties, they always managed to avoid this particular
disaster.
It was utterly impossible for Rob to count the passage of time. He
was aware of the fact that it would take them at least twelve
minutes, perhaps more, to make the trip, even when going at this mad
pace. Counting the same back, and a short delay while securing the
dynamite and the battery, it must be something like half an hour
that they would be away from town.
He wondered whether that would seal the doom of Wyoming. The fire
was being urged on with feverish haste by that compelling wind, and
it was only a question of so much time before it reached the
connecting link between the mill part of the town and that section
where the conflagration already raged.
Well, they would do all in their power to carry out their plan; if
they failed, in spite of everything, no blame could be attached to
them. A scout need not reproach himself if he has conscientiously
done his duty; the rest has to be left to a higher power than his
will.
“Look out! I see something ahead!” suddenly snapped Rob, as they
turned a bend, mostly on two wheels.
Ralph slowed down instantly. At the same time he sounded the Klaxon,
and veered more or less to one side of the road.
It turned out to be a market wagon belonging to some “trucker” who
was making for town in order to dispose of his vegetables, fresh
eggs, and fowls. He gave them at least half of the road, and they
whirled past. Before they reached him they heard his voice raised to
a bellow in which wonder and alarm predominated.
“Hey! what’s that red light in the sky mean, Mister?”
“Wyoming is all afire!” Rob shouted back; and no doubt his words
caused the man to experience a sensation akin to fright.
So they kept flying along. It was a weird ride, as remarkable as any
one could possibly experience, and the attending conditions added to
its strangeness.
The next obstacle happened to be a load of hay. Here they were
delayed for as much as half a precious minute of time in getting
safely by, since the wagon took up so much of the road. Ralph again
proved himself to be the right party at the wheel, for he finally
managed to negotiate the passage without an upset.
Where there were straight stretches Ralph made fearful time. No
contestant in the Vanderbilt Cup Race could have done much better,
Rob thought, as he held his hat with one hand, and strove to see
ahead.
All the while he knew what desperate chances they were taking, since
this old car was not built for a racing machine. At any moment some
weak part might give way, and--well, Rob did not like to even think
what the result was bound to be if such a thing came to pass. At
least, they would never know what hit them, and there was a little
grim consolation about that.
The road was unfamiliar to the visitor, but Ralph knew it like a
book; and while he had to keep his eyes fixed ahead, at the same
time familiar turns continually told him just what section they had
reached.
“Halfway there!” he called out at one time, and Rob drew a long
breath of satisfaction, for it meant that they had done a fair
portion of the course without meeting with any accident.
“Three-quarters there!” Ralph again told him shortly afterwards;
indeed, to Rob, it seemed as though two minutes had hardly elapsed,
and yet more than a brace of miles must have been covered during the
interval.
“I can see lights ahead that look as if they came from a house,
Ralph!” he suddenly burst out with.
“Sure thing! That’s our place!” the other announced.
Still, on they rushed, and presently Ralph cut down the speed.
“Here we are, safe and sound, Rob!” he exclaimed, as he turned in at
the lane.