A LEAP FOR LIFE.
“Hurrah!” cried Andy the next morning, bursting into the room where the
three chums had slept. “Hurrah! It’s a fine day! Rain all stopped--sun
shines--sorry to see you fellows go--come again!”
“Take it easy,” advised Jerry. “We’re very much obliged to you, Andy,
for providing this fine shelter for us. Wish you were going along.”
“So do I--can’t though--got to stay here another week--help run the
farm--maybe I’ll be a farmer some day--whoop!”
In spite of the storm, which had been an unusually severe one, the roads
were in fairly good shape. Now and then a stretch would be reached where
speed had to be slackened but, by picking their way, the machines were
pushed along at a good rate. Huntsville was reached in about two hours,
and the boys left their machines in charge of a store keeper while they
walked about the town viewing the sights.
There was not much to be seen, and they had come more for the sake
of saying they had ridden the distance than from any other reason.
Purchasing a few souvenirs for the folks at home, and buying some
sandwiches in case they might not find a convenient eating place, the
boys prepared for the return trip.
“We’ll take a little different way on our back trip,” said Jerry. “I
know a road that goes past a fine waterfall that’s worth seeing.”
The falls were about fifty feet high, and, with the jagged rocks over
which the water flowed, and the trees on either side, made a picture
well worth beholding.
The boys stopped for half an hour, watching the leaping, falling water,
which possessed a peculiar fascination. Then, as they still had most of
their trip before them, Jerry suggested they had better start.
They had not yet turned into the road leading to Cresville, from which
they had diverged in order to visit the falls, when riding along a
rather lonely stretch of the highway, the boys came in sight of a white
house, with no other residences near it. As they came opposite a man
suddenly ran from the front door. He seemed greatly excited.
“Stop!” he called to the boys. “Stop, for Heaven’s sake.”
There was so much anguish in his tone that the boys knew something must
have happened.
“What is it?” asked Jerry, riding up to the front gate and dismounting.
“It’s my wife! She has just been taken very sick and I’m all alone here.
I need a doctor, but I dare not leave her to get one, and I have no one
to send. I saw you coming down the road and I thought maybe you would
help me!”
“Of course we will,” replied Jerry heartily. “Where does the doctor
live? I’ll ride after him.”
“His house is about two miles from here,” said the man. “It’s the first
one after you cross the white bridge. Oh! Hurry, and tell him to be
quick! I’m afraid my wife is dying! Tell him to come to Mr. Johnson’s!
Oh! What shall I do!” and the unfortunate man showed so much distress
that the hearts of the boys were touched.
“Don’t worry,” Jerry advised. “I’ll make good time. Ned and Bob will
stay with you. Maybe they will be of some help.”
Springing into the saddle, Jerry started his machine and soon had it
going at a good rate. Because of the condition of the roads, which were
not in the best of shape, he dared not push the motor to the limit. Ned
and Bob followed the man into the house, willing to do what they could.
Meanwhile Jerry rode on. A turn of the road soon hid the lonely farm
house from sight. The grade was up hill for a way, and the machine did
not make such good time.
“I must hurry,” reasoned the boy. “I hope I find the doctor at home.”
In a few minutes Jerry had come to the top of the hill. At the foot of
the slope, which was about half a mile in extent, the boy saw a white
bridge, that spanned a narrow but swift running stream.
“Here goes!” cried Jerry. He was about to coast at half speed down the
hill when a voice suddenly called:
“Stop!”
“I can’t!” shouted back Jerry. “I’m hurrying for the doctor!”
The boy turned to see who had warned him, and saw a farmer hurrying
across the field toward him. Something in his manner caused Jerry to
dismount.
“You can’t get across the bridge!” cried the man. “It’s broken. If you
ride down that hill you’ll be killed! I stopped you just in time!”
Jerry felt his heart sink.
“The rains made the creek rise,” explained the man. “The farther span of
the bridge was carried away last night. There’s a sign just this side of
it warning people, but if you rode down on that lickity-split thing I
knew you’d never see the sign until it was too late.”
“I’m much obliged to you,” said Jerry. “But I must cross that stream. A
lady back there,” pointing in the direction he had come, “is dying. I’m
after the doctor.”
“That’s bad,” said the man. “But I don’t see how you’re going to do it.”
“Is the missing span of the bridge too wide for me to jump across?”
asked Jerry, a sudden idea coming into his head.
“It’s fifteen feet,” replied the man. “That’s too much for you I reckon.
And if you didn’t make it you’d be killed, for the current is very
swift, and the creek is full of rocks.”
“Can’t we get planks and bridge the gap?” asked the boy in desperation.
“Something must be done.”
“I’m on my way to get men to mend the break now,” the man said. “But it
will take some time.”
“Isn’t there another bridge near here?”
“Not one within five miles either way,” was the answer. “I’m very sorry,
my boy. Is the sick woman any relation of yours?”
“No, her husband stopped me as I was riding past the house with my two
chums, and begged us to hurry after a doctor.”
“Well, I’ll go after some planks,” said the man, “but it may take two
hours to get ’em here. I’ll have to hunt for ’em.”
Slowly Jerry rode his motor down to the white structure that spanned the
now swollen and swiftly running stream. As the man had said the last
span of the bridge, on the side farthest from Jerry, had been carried
away. It was the part which had extended from the shore to the stone
abutment.
The boy carefully examined the ruined bridge. There were planks on the
floor, but they were firmly spiked down, and none of them seemed long
enough. To leap the gap was a feat beyond Jerry’s ability, though a
professional jumper might have done it.
“If the stream wasn’t so swift I could swim it,” the boy murmured. “But
it’s too risky. Besides, even if I get over, I wonder how the doctor is
to come back? Though I guess I can manage that. He can bring some planks
with him, and walk over on them. That part will be all right if I can
only get across.”
But Jerry had to admit that the problem was a difficult one to solve. He
looked at the bridge with sorrow in his heart as he thought of the man
waiting anxiously for the doctor.
“I simply must get across!” exclaimed the boy.
As he walked to the edge of the structure, looking in vain for a plank
that would serve, Jerry noticed a strange trick that the water had
played. In tearing away the far span the timbers that remained resting
on the stone abutment had been loosened. This caused the middle of what
was left of the bridge to sag, or dip down to considerable degree.
All at once a daring thought came to Jerry. He looked at the sagging
bridge, at the gap where the span was missing, and at the angry waters
that swirled between him and the other shore. Then he turned and looked
back at the hill which came to an end right at the bridge.
“I have it!” cried the boy, his eyes shining with excitement. “If I only
dare do it! I will do it!”
He hurried back to where he had left his motor cycle. He started it in
motion and rode slowly back up the hill which he had just descended.
Any one seeing him, and not knowing his plan might have thought he had
given up in despair. But Jerry was not that kind of a boy.
When he looked at the broken and sagging bridge he had suddenly thought
of a trick he had seen performed in a circus that had exhibited in
Cresville. This was where a man on a bicycle had started down a steep
incline of boards to accomplish what was billed as “A Leap For Life!”
The incline was broken about three-quarters of the way down, making a
gap. Just before the gap was reached there was a dip, or curve in the
incline. Across the gap the incline was continued at a slight angle.
The principle on which the feat was performed was, that the man on the
bicycle, rushing down the incline, would get momentum enough to shoot
across the gap. To prevent the wheel and rider from falling from the
attraction of gravitation while it was flying across the space, the end
of the incline was curved upward. This served to shoot the machine and
man into the air, and overcame, for the time necessary to speed across
the gap, the pull of the earth.
And, in a crude way, Jerry saw before him all the elements that went to
make up the trick as it is performed in many circuses.
The hill made the incline. The sag in the middle of the bridge, and the
little rise at the further abutment, gave the necessary upward curve
that would throw Jerry and his motor far enough into the air to prevent
him tumbling into the stream. The missing span was the gap corresponding
to the one in the inclined plane of boards, and the road on the farther
shore would make a good landing place.
“I guess I can do it as well as that man in the circus!” exclaimed
Jerry. “It’s a risk, I know, but I can’t stay here and wait two hours
for that man to bring the planks.”
He was soon at the top of the hill. He looked around to see if any one
was in sight to aid him in case he failed. But the roads were deserted.
“I must put on full speed,” thought the boy. “I’ll need all the momentum
I can get.”
He turned his machine to face down the slope. For a moment he hesitated
as he looked at what was before him. But, steeling his heart, and
uttering a short prayer, he leaped into the saddle.
“Here I go!” thought Jerry. He turned the motor to full speed, and soon
was racing down the hill at a fearful pace. “There’s no stopping now!”
he murmured.
How the wind sang in his ears! The motor fairly hummed beneath him, and
the big tires threw up a shower of mud. On and on rushed the boy! Nearer
and nearer he came to the broken bridge. He heard a shout behind him but
he dared not turn to see who it was.
He was twenty feet from the spot where the road ended and the bridge
began. He wanted to shut his eyes, but he knew he must guide the motor
with a firm and steady hand. He gripped the steering bars with all his
might. There was a whizz as the rubber tires struck the wooden planking
of the bridge. Jerry felt himself going down as he reached the sagging
middle of the broken structure.
Then, like a stone fired from some ancient catapult, he felt his machine
rise under him, shoot up into the air, and sail across the gap.
[Illustration: HE FELT HIS MACHINE RISE UNDER HIM.]
For one instant Jerry looked down at the black swirling waters below
him. Then with a terrific thud he felt himself land on the road across
the missing span.
He had made the leap for life and succeeded!
So swiftly was the machine going that even the shock of the landing
in the road beyond the broken bridge did not check it. On and on it
rushed until Jerry, whose breath had been almost shaken from him by the
concussion, turned off the power.
“But I must not stop!” cried the boy. “I’m safely across, and I’ve got
to get the doctor!”
So turning on the power again he sent the motor flying down the road.
Three-quarters of a mile further he came to the first house. There was a
sign on it:
DR. JOHN RAND.
“Is the doctor in?” gasped Jerry, barely able to stand as he leaped from
his machine and rang the bell which was answered by a woman.
“Yes, right in his office,” was the answer.
“Tell him he’s wanted at once! Mrs. Johnson is dying!”
“But I can’t get across the bridge; it is broken,” said Dr. Rand, who
had come from his office in time to hear Jerry’s message.
“I got across,” exclaimed the boy. “Quick, doctor! You must hurry! Take
a long plank along and you can get over the gap!”
“But if I did get across, how am I to get my horse over? He can’t walk a
plank,” objected the medicine man. “It will take a long time for me to
walk to Mrs. Johnson’s.”
Once more it looked as if Jerry had failed.