WHAT HAPPENED ON THE ROAD
Both Jack and Randy were greatly alarmed when they saw their former
school chum roll from the roof of the hunters’ lodge and disappear from
sight.
“He’ll break his neck!” gasped Randy.
Andy was on the ladder with a pot of water when the accident occurred.
He saw Spouter fly over the edge of the roof, turn something of a
somersault and then come down very much in the shape of a huge frog.
He landed in some low bushes growing beside a window, and then fell
backward on the wet grass.
“Spouter!” exclaimed Gif, rushing up, followed by Fred. “Are you hurt?”
There was no immediate answer to this, but the boy who loved
occasionally to orate turned over slowly on his hands and knees and
then got up on his feet.
“Gee, what a tumble!” came from Fred. “Are you sure you’re all right,
Spouter?”
“I――I――guess so,” panted the unfortunate one. “Gee, but I came down
awfully sudden like, didn’t I?” he added, rubbing his shoulder and then
his hip.
Under ordinary circumstances all of the other boys would have paid
more attention to Spouter. But now, when they saw he was not seriously
injured, they immediately turned their attention again to the fire.
Pail after pail of water was taken to the roof, and gradually the
flames in the chimney subsided and then went out altogether. The last
few pailfuls were thrown by Randy, for Jack was almost exhausted, so
strenuously had he labored to put out the conflagration.
While the work was going on overhead Fred, followed by Spouter, had
reëntered the lodge and they were busy cleaning up the muss on the
hearth and on the floor. Spouter limped a little, but refused to take
care of his bruises until all were assured that the fire was a thing of
the past.
“We were lucky to get it out so easily,” declared Jack. “At one time
I thought sure the whole roof would catch fire.” He and Randy had
extinguished the flames on the shingles which Spouter had been fighting.
“I don’t know what the owners of the lodge will say to this,” remarked
Randy, as he looked at the muss on the floor. “But I don’t think they
can claim that the fire in the chimney was our fault.”
“I can’t understand how a few birds’ nests could make such an awful
blaze as that,” declared Jack. “The chimney went off as if it was
stuffed with wood.”
Later on the boys solved the mystery of the fire. During some previous
storm a long branch of a tree had been blown to the roof of the lodge
and then settled down into the chimney. Here it had had time to dry
and in it the birds had established their nests. Thus when the fire
was started on the hearth the dried-out limb with its dead leaves and
birds’ nests had acted very much like a huge torch.
It was not until two hours later that the boys had cleaned up the muss.
They examined the chimney carefully and it was cleaned out thoroughly
so that no more fires of that sort might occur. Then they started
another blaze and prepared supper, after which all of them felt better,
even though Spouter complained somewhat of a bruise on his shoulder and
another on his hip and Jack and Randy exhibited several places on their
hands and necks where the sparks had touched them.
As has been said, the lodge was well furnished and that night the boys
slept almost as comfortably as if they had been at home. They left a
low fire burning so that their garments might dry out and none of them
stirred until the sun was well up in the heavens.
“No use of going on an outing if you can’t take your time about it,”
remarked Gif, as he arose and stretched himself.
“Let’s be thankful we’re not in an encampment at Colby Hall,” answered
Andy. “If we were, Major Jack would have us all up at daybreak and on
the parade ground,” and he grinned at his cousin.
“Attention!” came suddenly from the former major of the Colby Hall
battalion, and, taken off their guard, Andy, Randy and Spouter leaped
up and stood as straight as ramrods. Then came a burst of laughter from
Jack and the others, and even the victims of his little joke could not
help but join in.
The various happenings of the day before had tired all of the lads, and
they were perfectly content to take it easy that day. The sun came out
warmly and soon all traces of the storm had passed. The boys lolled
around in the sun or in the shade as suited them, resting and telling
stories.
“I wish I knew what had brought Slugger Brown and Nappy Martell to this
neighborhood,” remarked Jack. “I’m sure they wouldn’t come up here
excepting for some especial purpose.”
“It certainly is queer that Slugger looked in at your window,” said
Spouter. “He’s a bad egg. You’d better keep your eyes peeled for him.”
“And then to think they stopped at that farmhouse where we shot the
crows,” put in Fred. “That shows that they can’t be so very far from
this neighborhood.”
“Maybe they’ll try some such game as the Davenport crowd did,”
suggested Spouter. “You’d feel fine if you were kidnapped again,
wouldn’t you, Jack?”
“Well, we got the best of the Davenport crowd,” answered the former
major of the Colby Hall battalion. “Maybe we could get ahead of Slugger
and his bunch too, not to say anything of that sneak, Nappy Martell.”
Not a great distance back of the hunters’ lodge was located a small
river and a fair-sized lake. Here the lads thought they might have luck
fishing and the next day set off for this sport after a late breakfast.
They took their lunch with them, not knowing how soon they would come
back.
Fishing along the river was not particularly successful, although Randy
and Gif did manage to land two small trout. Then they reached the lake
and here had a little better success, getting two more trout and a
dozen perch, as well as a number of catfish.
“I’m tired of fishing,” said Randy, after he had four specimens of the
finny tribe to his credit. “I’m going to put up my rod and see what I
can find to shoot with the camera.”
The others wished to continue the sport, so Randy went off by himself,
following the lake-shore for a short distance and then moving away to
where a fairly well constructed roadway ran along one side of the water.
This was after the boys had partaken of their lunch, and now the others
continued their fishing for an hour longer. But there was little more
success and finally one after another reeled in his line and put away
his rod.
“Wonder where Randy went to?” questioned Fred presently.
“Oh, I don’t think he’s very far off,” said Jack.
“I’ll give him a call and find out,” put in Andy, and, placing his two
little fingers in the corners of his mouth, he gave what was called a
locomotive whistle――something he had learned from his father, the old
whistle that Tom Rover had made so popular at Putnam Hall.
After the whistle all listened intently and from a considerable
distance came two whistles in return. Then Andy whistled four times to
signal to his twin that they were ready to go back, and immediately
came three whistles from Randy to show that he understood.
“I wonder if he got any pictures worth taking,” mused Fred. He was
disappointed that he had not gone along, having brought his own camera
with him.
“Never mind, Fred. Here! we’ll all stand in a row holding up our
catches and you can snap that for a picture,” suggested Andy, and this
was done.
“We should have stood about ten feet from the camera and held out our
fish directly in front of us,” suggested Spouter. “Then the fish would
look about three times bigger than they are,” and at this there was a
general snicker.
Having taken several other pictures, the boys prepared to leave the
place and again Andy whistled for his twin. This time, however, there
was no reply.
“That’s funny,” remarked Gif. “He’s supposed to answer, isn’t he, Andy?”
“Sure.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to make any noise,” suggested Fred. “He may be
trying to get a picture of some birds or squirrels, or something like
that. And if he made a noise he’d scare them away.”
“You may be right,” answered Jack. “Well, all we can do is to hang
around and wait for him to come. We’re in no hurry, anyway.”
The boys moved forward slowly, walking in the direction of the roadway
just mentioned. Andy was in advance, swinging his small catch of fish
from a twig as he moved along.
“Let’s wake Randy up with the old school song!” cried Gif, and then
began as loudly as he could, with all of the others joining in:
“Who are we?
Can’t you see?
Colby Hall!
Dum, dum! dum, dum, dum!
Here we come with fife and drum!
Colby, Colby, Colby Hall!”
This they repeated twice and then added the old baseball refrain, that
refrain which had often brought them success in the games against
Hixley High, Longley Academy, and other rival institutions.
“We’ve got the goods! We’ve got the goods!
Because we played good ball.
No matter what we try to do,
Old Colby’s got the call!”
“Gee, sounds like a touch of old times!” said Jack. “Wouldn’t you like
to be on the ballfield at the Hall to-day?”
“Indeed I would!” answered Gif, his eyes glistening. “How we would
knock the stuffing out of Tommy Flanders and his bunch!”
“I’ll tell you, those days at Colby Hall were certainly great!” put in
Spouter wistfully. “No matter what happens to me, I don’t believe I’ll
ever forget the many good times we had at that school. And I’ll never
forget what a good sport Colonel Colby always was!”
“Never a better man!” declared Fred. “And never a better school. It’s
too bad we had to graduate. I’d like to go back for another year or
two.”
“Wow! Listen to him, will you?” exclaimed Jack. “Did you ever hear the
like! A fellow wanting to go back to school!”
“I’ll bet you’d like to go back yourself, Jack,” was the quick retort.
“So I would! But not to do any studying. I’d like to be on the
ballfield for a game or two, and I’d like to be in command of the
battalion during a drill and a parade, and maybe for a week or two in
camp. But no more school books, thank you!”
“Oh, well, let’s forget it!” cried Fred, and then, with a sly look at
his oldest cousin, he began to hum softly:
“Down on the ocean bottom, boys;
Down on the ocean bottom!”
“For the love of smoked beef, Fred, why don’t you tell us what it’s all
about?” demanded Jack. “You promised to tell us――you know you did.”
“Have patience, old man! Have patience!” returned the youngest Rover
solemnly. “The answer is coming soon――have patience.”
While talking, the boys had reached the roadway, Andy in advance of the
others. Then all heard a noise in the distance and looked up to see
what it meant.
“It’s an auto, and making some speed,” said Gif. “Gee, this is no road
to race on!” he added, looking at the uneven highway.
Andy was still well ahead and now he, as well as the others, stepped
to the side of the road to let the car pass. On it came and then they
noticed that the car, which was large and powerful, had a broken
mudguard and that one of the headlights was smashed.
“Look out!” screamed Jack. “Of all the fools――――” and then he and those
near him had to fall back into some bushes as the big car lurched by
within a few inches of them.
“By golly, the fellow running that car ought to be arrested!” gasped
Gif. “He must be crazy to run like that.”
“Looks to me as if they were running away from some accident,” said
Jack. “The mudguard and one light were broken.”
“Look! Look!” screamed Spouter, pointing up the roadway in the
direction which the automobile had taken. “They knocked Andy down! He’s
lying in the road!”