WHEN MUSCLES COUNTED
There were four of them who made the start, Hugh, "Just" Smith,
Horatio Juggins, and "K. K.," the Kinkaid boy. Three of the bunch
had been fielders in the baseball nine that carried off the
championship pennant of the three-town high-school league the
preceding summer; and, having been known as great runners, it was
only natural that they had felt impelled to enter for the
long-distance race.
An equal number could be expected from both Allandale and Belleville,
so that with others who would feel disposed to, at least, be in at
the start, though calculating to fall out after a few miles had been
run, possibly a full score would toe the string at the time the great
Marathon was called.
In an event of this nature a big "field" adds to the excitement of
the occasion; and it is often noticed that those who have no
intention of finishing usually look the most confident during the
preparations for making the grand start. Well, they have no hope of
getting any fun out of the race after losing sight of the crowd, and
so they mean to take what they can beforehand.
Talking is almost tabooed during such a race, since every breath lost
in useless conversation saps so much energy. Even on a trial run Mr.
Leonard had advised the boys to separate as soon as possible, and
keep some distance apart, mostly to obviate this temptation to
exchange views; so that each candidate could conserve every atom of
his powers.
So it came about that by the time two miles had been run Hugh found
himself absolutely alone. Hugh had left the main thoroughfare, and
was passing along a byroad that would take him around through the
hilly country, until the Scranton turnpike was again reached.
The other fellows had the option of doing as Hugh did, or they could
continue on further, and, perhaps, get a lift back home on some
farmer's wagon, or possibly a car bound for Scranton. Hugh had an
idea, however, that one of them was coming along the same road a mile
or more behind, and that it would turn out to be "Just" Smith. Some
words the other chap had uttered when they were together before
starting forth on the run gave Hugh this impression, though he could
not be positive about it.
At the time, it gave him little concern; but then he could not look
into the immediate future, and see what it held for him. The coming
of "Just" Smith would yet turn out to be an event of the first
magnitude in Hugh's humble opinion; as the reader will soon learn.
Hugh was jogging along nicely, and had long ago caught his second
wind. He kept "tabs" upon himself, in order to know just how his
energy held out, and if he was likely to be in condition for the
gruelling finish that might become necessary, over the last half mile
of the long course, should a visiting runner threaten to head the
list with the goal in sight, and the thousands of eager spectators
bursting out with cheers calculated to thrill the heart, and give
fresh impetus to wearied limbs.
On the whole, Hugh felt fairly well satisfied with himself. He knew
he had gone about as fast as ordinary runners would care to travel,
who wished to conserve their strength toward the close of the race;
and that he was holding back a good reserve stock of energy. Yes, he
believed he was at his best, and if he failed to land the prize it
was because some fellow was a better runner than he could ever hope
to be.
Just then he heard a sound that gave him a sudden thrill. It was
like a faint human cry for help, uttered in a weak voice, and seemed
to come from his right.
Hugh stopped short.
His first inclination was to instantly dash from the road and
endeavor to discover what caused that cry. Then he had a wave of
suspicion dart over him. Could this be a sly trick on the part of
some enemy, meant to lure him into the brush and rocks, where he
could, perhaps, be overpowered? But Nick, as well as his two
satellites, Leon Disney and Tip Slavin, had been on the grounds at
the time Hugh started his run, for he had taken particular notice of
this fact; consequently, it was hardly likely that they could be
concerned in any practical joke; and certainly no other fellow would
be guilty of such a thing.
That decided Hugh. He left the road, and started toward the spot
where he judged that strange sound had welled forth. The country was
exceedingly rough just there, and he fancied that some sort of deep
gully, possibly a precipice, might lie off on his right, judging from
the aspect of the land.
Not hearing the sound again, Hugh uttered a loud hello. Then, as he
continued to press hastily forward, he once more caught the
beseeching cry. It had an agonizing strain to it, and Hugh could
plainly make out the words:
"Help! Oh! help! help!"
Someone was evidently in trouble, Hugh decided, accelerating his pace
as well as the conditions of the rough surface of the ground
permitted. He had taken pains to locate the cry this time, and was,
therefore, altering his course just a little.
Again he called, and once more received a reply, more fearful than
before:
"Hurry! Oh! hurry, before it gives way, and I'm lost!"
It sounded more like the voice of a girl than anything else. Hugh
was thrilled at the bare thought of one of the opposite sex being
caught in a trap whereby life itself was imperiled.
He had been ascending all this time. From a single look, which he
cast over his shoulder, he could see the road he had lately come
along, trace its course, in fact, until it was lost at a bend half a
mile away.
He noted that a runner had just turned that same bend, and was
jogging along in a rhythmic, contented fashion, as though satisfied
with the progress he was making; although "Just" Smith would have to
speed up considerable on the morrow if he wished to be anywhere near
the head of the procession when the race neared its close. Hugh,
somehow, fixed the fact of his comrade's presence on his mind. He
even mentally figured just how long it was likely to take the other
to reach the spot where he himself had left the road; for, perhaps,
that circumstance might loom up large in his calculations.
Then he arrived at the brink of what seemed to be a precipice. The
presence of this told Hugh plainly the nature of the task that
awaited him. Someone had undoubtedly fallen over the brink, and was,
even then, hanging on desperately to some jutting rock or bush that
represented the only hope of safety from a serious fall. He threw
himself down and thrust his head out over the edge. What Hugh saw
was enough to give any boy a thrill of horror. Some ten feet below
the top a human figure sprawled, kicking with his legs in the
endeavor to find a brace for his feet. He was clinging to a bush
that seemed to be growing from the face of the precipice, and which
Hugh could see was slowly but surely giving way, one root after
another losing its grip in the soil and rocky crevices.
Hugh recognized the imperiled boy instantly, though utterly amazed at
his discovery; he could not understand for the life of him how Claude
Jardine, of all fellows in Scranton, could be placed in such a
dreadful predicament.
But Hugh did not waste a single precious second in trying to solve
that puzzle; it could be all made plain after he had managed to save
the poor chap.
"Stop kicking, and keep perfectly still, Claude!" he instantly called.
"But it's going to give way, and let me drop!" wailed the terrified
boy.
"It'll do that all the sooner if you keep moving as you are," Hugh
told him sharply, with the tone of authority that one accustomed to
command might use. "I'm coming down after you, so don't be afraid.
Can you hold on just ten seconds more?"
"I'll try to, but, oh! hurry, please!" came the trembling answer.
Already Hugh was passing over the edge. He took care not to make a
false movement, for the precipice was all of forty feet in depth, and
a fall on the rocks below was bound to be a serious matter.
To lower himself to where the imperiled boy clung he had to take
advantage of numerous projecting points of rock that offered him a
foothold, or a place where he could hang on with his hands. Hugh was
as nimble as any boy in Scranton, which fact proved of great
advantage to him just then. Had it been otherwise, he might have
himself fallen, and there would then have been a double tragedy.
Somehow, through Hugh's mind flashed the memory of how Claude's
doting mother had always, on every occasion, condemned all athletic
exercises that were intended to build up the muscles, and give new
power to the body. It seemed the irony of fate that the life of her
precious boy was now going to hang upon the ability of Hugh Morgan to
sustain himself, and the weight of another, there upon the face of
that rocky precipice! Perhaps in times to come Mrs. Jardine would
discover how false her ideas were, and experience a radical change of
heart. The opportunity which Hugh had once sighed for had come to
him in a most wonderful way.
He succeeded in making his way down in safety, though once he
slipped, and had a thrill of alarm pass over him. Now he found
himself alongside Claude. The boy's face was the color of ashes;
Hugh had never looked upon a corpse in all his life, but he could not
help comparing Claude's pallid countenance to one.
He was glancing around with the eye of a general who lets nothing, no
matter how trivial, escape him. Just a foot below Claude's dangling
toes there was a narrow ledge. If only both of them could find
lodgment upon this; and have some hold above for their hands, they
might maintain their position until Hugh's shouts attracted "Just"
Smith to the spot, and he could do something to aid them.
"Listen, Claude," he said earnestly. "There's a way to save you, if
only you keep your head about you. 'Just' Smith is coming along the
road, and I'll shout out to guide him here so he can help us."
"But--the bush is going to give way right off!" gasped the terrified
boy.
"Well, below us there's a ledge where we must plant our feet, and
hold on," continued Hugh, convincingly. "I'm going to drop down to
it now. Then you must try to lower yourself along the bush, inch by
inch, until you feel the ledge under you. Don't be afraid, because I
mean to grab hold of you; but when you feel me touching you, above
all things don't let go above, or you'll throw us both down. Now, be
ready, Claude; and, remember, it's going to be all right. Keep cool!"
Of course, Hugh only said that last to reassure the poor chap.
Claude was already cold with fear, as cold as an icicle, in fact; and
quaking with fear in the bargain.
It was easy enough for Hugh to drop down another foot or so, until he
felt the solid little ledge under him. Indeed, had it been
necessary, such an agile fellow very likely might have continued all
the way down to the base of the precipice.
His next move was to find a firm hold for his left hand, to which he
could continue to cling while he sustained much of the weight of the
other boy, after the weakened roots of the bush gave way entirely.
Claude was trying to do what he had been told, though in rather a
bungling fashion. Inch by inch he allowed the bush to slip through
his hands, looking down as well as he was able at the same time, in
order to ascertain just how near he might be to that same ledge Hugh
had told him of.