CHAPTER IX
HOW THE "RED SCOUT" CLIMBED DOBB'S HILL
The morning of the long anticipated day in the "Red Scout" dawned brightand clear, and the campers who were to go were astir soon after dawn.Most of them would willingly have dispensed with breakfast, but Mr.Hollis insisted that they take their time and eat a hearty meal.However, everything comes to him who waits, and at last they were readyto start. It had been arranged that on their trip they were to stop intown, and get supplies and some camp appliances that Mr. Hollisrequired. Otherwise they were to do as they pleased, subject only toBert's authority.
The car was ready to start, and Bert had received Mr. Hollis' lastinstructions.
"Well, fellows," said Bert, "pile in, and we'll start for town rightaway. It rather looks now as though we might have a little rain beforethe day is over. I don't like the looks of the sky over there any toomuch, but we've got to have grub anyway, even if we have to go after itin boats."
"Yes, or we might swim, I suppose," suggested Shorty, sarcastically.
"In that case, we'd let you try it, as its only a matter of twenty milesor so each way, and see if you are as strong as your name," retortedBert, and Shorty subsided.
Meanwhile the others had taken their appointed places in the auto, and,after adjusting spark and throttle levers, Bert walked to the front ofthe machine and cranked the motor.
On the first turn, such was the beautiful condition in which he kept thecar, the engine started with a roar, and he quickly climbed into thedriver's seat and threw in the clutch. Without a tremor the big carglided away as if moving on air, which indeed it was, in a way, if theair in the tires could be counted.
With the ease of a driver who thoroughly understands his car, Bertsteered the machine around and between the bumps in the road, and evenone who had never ridden in an automobile before would have appreciatedhis masterly handling of this machine.
Suddenly Tom, who, as usual, was riding in the seat beside Bert, leanedover and said, "Say, Bert, do you suppose she would take Dobb's hill?"
Now, the hill to which Tom referred was one notorious in theneighborhood. More than one gray-haired farmer had shaken his headdubiously while inspecting the "Red Scout," and said, "Yes, that therecontraption may be all right on the level, and there's no getting overthe fact that it can run circles around a streak of greased lightning,but I'll bet a dollar to a doughnut that it could never get up Dobb'shill."
So Bert thought a moment before answering Tom's question, and then said,"Well, that's an awfully steep hill, but the old 'Scout' has neverbalked at anything yet, and I have a sneaking feeling that it wouldn'teven stop at Dobb's hill. However, there is only one way of finding outabout it, and that is to try it. What do you say, fellows, shall we tryit and show these people around here just what our machine can do?"
There was a unanimous chorus of assent from the other occupants of thecar, so at the next crossing Bert turned off the main road in thedirection of the famous Dobb's hill. Soon the hill itself loomed up infront of them, and Bert opened the throttle a trifle. The machineimmediately picked up speed, but to the occupants of the machine itseemed almost impossible that anything but an elevator could get up thathill. It looked to them almost like a high wall. Bert, however, wasthinking more of the machine than of the hill. He had been graduallygiving the engine more gas, and now, when they were almost at the footof the hill, he realized that the moment had come to call forth thesupreme effort of the motor. He opened the muffler so as to get rid ofall back pressure, and opened the throttle to its widest extent. With abound and a roar the powerful machine took the hill, and to the boys inthe car it seemed as though they had some powerful, willing animalworking for them. Up the great machine climbed, with scarcely diminishedspeed, the engine emitting unbroken and exhilarating music, or at leastthat is what it sounded like to the tense boys in the auto. At last witha final roar of the motor, and rumble of the straining gears, themachine topped the hill and started on its long downward coast. Bertthrew out the clutch, and giving the engine a well-earned rest after itsstrenuous work, allowed the "Red Scout" to glide rapidly and smoothlydown the hill.
Every boy in the car seemed half-crazy with delight over the performanceof their mechanical pet. Some even went so far as to pat the sides ofthe car, and Bob expressed the general feeling when he said, "Well, I'drather be a camper and be able to say I held part ownership in a carlike this, than to be King of England."
The boys also realized that a lot of credit was due Bert for the successof their climb, as even such a car as the "Red Scout" could never havegotten up that hill without expert handling.
Down the long hill glided the "Red Scout" with constantly increasingmomentum, and long before they reached the bottom Bert had to apply thepowerful brakes with which the machine was equipped, and check itsspeed.
Gradually he slowed it down to a safer, but less exciting speed, and atthe bottom eased in the clutch and the willing motor took up the load.
In the meantime the sky had taken on a more threatening appearance, andwhile the happy-go-lucky boys in the tonneau gave it little thought,Bert, to whom the care of the car and its occupants were intrusted, castmore than one dubious and anxious glance in the direction in which thestorm might be expected to break. He hoped that they might at least makethe necessary trip to town and back before the rain could catch them,however, and so held a steady pace, and they were soon rolling down themain street.
Bert got out his list of the things they would need, and detailed theboys to different stores so that they could get started again as soon aspossible.
Bert's last remark to them was, "Now, fellows, step just as lively asyou know how, and whatever else you do, don't come back drunk." Thisraised a general laugh, as, it is needless to say, the boys had had nosuch intentions.
Bert and Tom remained with the car, and while Bert said less than theother boys about his love for the machine, it was easy to see that hehad a real affection for it, and took pleasure in cleaning and adjustingit.
"Say, Tom," he called after a few minutes, "bring me grandfather, willyou?" Now, "grandfather" was not what that word usually means, but animmense monkey-wrench, with jaws on it like a vise. It was calledgrandfather for no particular reason that anybody knew of, but someonehad called it that once, and the name had stuck. The boys sometimes usedit to exercise and perform feats of strength with, so heavy was it. Sonow, when Tom got it out of the tool box on the running board andhandled it with loving care, Bert took it from him, and for severalminutes was busy adjusting and tightening bolts and nuts around themotor and transmission case. Finally he handed the wrench back to Tomwith a sigh of relief.
"Well!" he exclaimed. "There's a good job well done. I'll bet wecould take that hill now even a little better than we did, if that'spossible."
"I don't know about that," replied Tom, "this old Scout went up thathill better than I thought it could, and I guess you ought to have asmuch credit as the machine. After this I will back you and the 'RedScout' against all comers."
From this it may be seen that there was more than a little hero worshipmingled with Tom's love for Bert, and no wonder. Bert was the sort offellow that everyone had to admire and like.
By this time the boys had begun to return with their bundles and boxes,and soon everything was safely stored in the tonneau, and the boys hadtime to wonder how they were going to get themselves in too, as thesupplies seemed to take up about all the room.
Finally it was arranged that Jim and Dave should stay in the tonneau tosee that nothing was shaken overboard, while Bob and Frank rangedthemselves on the running board.
In this fashion they started, but it soon became evident to everybodythat they would never be able to get back to camp before the stormbroke, even with the help of the "Red Scout."
Thunder could be heard coming nearer and nearer, and soon they felt thefirst warm drops of rain. Bert wished then that they had a top to theircar, but unfortunately the leather covering ordered by Mr. Hollis hadnot
yet arrived at the camp.
"What do you think we'd better do, Bert; make a run for camp or huntshelter around here?" asked Tom.
"Why, this road is pretty rough, and we can't make much speed," repliedBert. "I guess we'd better hunt cover right away," as a vivid streak oflightning split the sky, followed by a crash of thunder.
"We noticed an old barn over toward the right when we were on a botanyexpedition the other day," said Frank, "and I think that if you swinginto that dirt road we're coming to, it will lead us right to it."
"Well, here goes," said Bert, and swung the "Red Scout" into the oldroad. Sure enough, before they had gone a quarter of a mile they sightedthe old barn, and were soon snugly established in it. To be sure, theroof leaked in places, but it was fairly tight, and what did a bunch ofhardy campers, in the pink of condition, care for a few drops of rain?
There was some hay left in the barn, and they lounged comfortably aroundon this, talking and listening to the rain, which by this time hadincreased to a downpour, and beat fiercely on the roof and sides of theold barn.
The boys started a discussion about the hill-climbing feat of the "RedScout," and while all agreed that it had been a splendid performance,Bob seemed to be inclined to sneer at Bert's handling of the car. Hefirmly believed that he knew more about automobiles than Bert, and wassometimes a little jealous of the praise given him by the other boys.
"Oh, I don't know," he finally remarked, when Tom remarked that somepeople seemed able to coax more out of a car than others, "I don't seethat that makes much difference. I'll bet that if I had been running the'Red Scout' this morning it would have gone up that hill just the same.Why, when I used to run my uncle's car----" but here he was interruptedby cries of derision, and Tom remarked:
"I suppose that if Bob had been running the 'Red Scout' he would haverun it up the hill backwards so that it would think it was goingdownhill, and so got to the top without any trouble."
This sally caused a general laugh at Bob's expense and he subsided, butwas heard to mutter about "getting the right mixture," and "easing herdown to second speed," which nobody but Bert understood, but whichseemed to make him feel much better.
In justice to Bob, it must be said, however, that he did know quite alittle about automobiles, but usually lacked nerve when it came toputting his knowledge into practice.
By this time the boys were all hungry, and as there seemed to be asmall chance of the rain letting up for a while, Bert proposed that theyhave lunch. There was plenty of food in the automobile, and Bert startedthe boys to fishing out crackers and jam.
Suddenly a thought struck him. "Say, fellows," he called, "how aboutmaking some cornbread and having a real bang-up meal? We've got baconand all the fixings here, and we all know how to cook, thanks to ourexperience as campers. I'll make the corn bread, and Tom here will frythe bacon."
There was such a joyous and noisy consent to this plan that Bert couldnot help laughing. "All right," he cried, "some of you fellows dive intothe car and bring out the new frying pan and the Dutch oven we boughtto-day. We'll build a fire on that slab of stone over there, and havesomething to eat in next to no time."
This was no sooner said than done, and as the odor of frying bacon andhot "corn pone" filled the old barn, the boys thanked their lucky starsfor the thousandth time that they had come on this camping trip.
In a short time everything was ready, and they seated themselves nearthe fire. Tom dished out the sizzling bacon and steaming "corn pone."
Under the cheering influence of this feast even Bob Ward forgot hisgrudge of the morning, and when he shouted, "What's the matter withWilson?" the resulting "He's all right!" almost lifted the roof off theold barn.
Soon they had finished and cleared away the meal, and when they openedthe barn door were surprised and delighted to find that the sun hadstruggled through the clouds and was now shining brightly. Quickly theypacked the tonneau, and were soon ready to start.
"All right, fellows, get to your places," sang out Bert, and soon theywere chugging out of the old barn that had offered them such timelyshelter.
Once outside and fairly on the disused road, however, it soon becameapparent that only with great difficulty could they make any progress atall. The rain had converted the road into a quagmire, and although Bertbrought the "Red Scout" from third speed to second, and finally tofirst, he saw that they must soon stop altogether, and indeed this soonproved to be the case.
The faithful motor apparently had plenty of power, but the car sank intothe mud up to its axles, and the rear wheels simply turned aroundwithout propelling it. Bert finally threw out the clutch and the "RedScout" stopped as though he had applied the brakes, so great was theopposition formed by the mud.
"Well, this is a pretty fix, to be sure," exclaimed Bert. "We're goingto have the time of our lives getting this machine out. What you needfor this road is not so much an automobile as a boat. However, itwouldn't speak well for us if we couldn't get our car out of this scrapeafter all it has done for us, so let's get busy."
"That's all very well," said Jim, "but the question is, how are yougoing to do it? This isn't exactly a flying machine, although it can gopretty fast, and it seems to me that we will need something like that toget us out of here."
"Say, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, Jim Dawson," exclaimed Tom,indignantly, "here you call yourself one of the crowd, and yet you arewilling to give up before you have fairly begun to try. That isn't theright spirit."
"Oh, it's easy enough to talk," answered Jim, sulkily, "but I'd justlike to know how you are going to do it, that's all."
"Well, I can't say I have a plan right now, but I'm sure that our old'Red Scout' isn't going to leave us in the lurch now after all it hasdone so far," and here he patted the vibrating car lovingly.
Meanwhile Bert had been thinking deeply, and had finally hit on a plan."Here, some of you fellows, run back and bring me all the hay you cancarry from that barn, will you? We want to get out of here as soon aswe can, because Mr. Hollis will be anxious about us. Lively's the word."
Tom, Bob, and Frank ran back to the barn and soon reappeared, carryingarmfuls of hay. When they reached the car Bert took charge of it, andplaced it carefully under the rear wheels, and made a path in front ofeach wheel for about six feet.
"If we can only get over to the side of the road and up on that grassthere," he explained, "we will be on firmer ground and can get bettertraction. I only wish we had tire chains."
"What are tire chains, Bert, and what are they for?" inquired Frank.
"Why, you see how it is," replied Bert, "we have plenty of power, butthe wheels can't get a grip on the ground, and just skid around. If wehad a network of chains over the tires they would bite through the mudto solid ground and get the grip we need. Understand?"
"Sure thing, and much obliged for the explanation," said Frank,heartily.
By this time Bert had arranged things to his satisfaction, and nowclimbed into the driver's seat, while the boys looked on expectantly.
Bert threw out the clutch, advanced the spark slightly, and openedthe throttle a few notches. Immediately the motor increased itsrevolutions, and when it had reached a good speed Bert gently eased inthe clutch. There was a grinding sound of clutch and gears as the powerwas transmitted to the rear wheels, and the "Red Scout" lunged forward.
The front wheels were so firmly embedded by this time, however, thateven the "Red Scout" was helpless. Again and again Bert raced his engineand let in the clutch, and each time the machine made a gallant attemptto free itself, but could never quite make it. Finally he reversed, butwith no better result. At last he gave up the attempt, and leaving themotor turning over slowly, descended to hold a consultation with theother boys.
"Have you any suggestions to make, fellows?" he asked, "I confess I'm upa tree just at present. What do you say, Bob? Can you think ofanything?"
"Why, I was thinking," answered Bob, flattered by this direct appeal tohis vaunted experience, "that if we co
uld dig out a path in front of themachine up onto the grass we might get it out that way."
"Say! you've hit the nail on the head this time!" exclaimed Bert,enthusiastically. "That's just what we'll do. Get that spade out of thetonneau, will you Frank, and we'll get to work."
Frank immediately complied, and in an incredibly short space of time theboys had a path dug in front of the auto down to hard gravel, and wereready for another attempt to extricate their beloved car.
Bert climbed into his seat with a do-or-die expression on his handsomeyoung face, and repeated his former tactics, but this time withgreater success. The "Red Scout" surged forward with a roar, like someimprisoned wild creature suddenly given its liberty. Bert took nochances this time, but plugged steadily onward until he reached high,firm ground. Here he stopped the panting machine, and waited for thecheering boys to catch up.
They soon reached the faithful car, and quickly jumped into theirplaces. Before starting again Bert turned around and said, "Fellows, Ithink we owe Bob a vote of thanks. All who agree please say 'Aye'."
There was a hearty chorus of "Ayes," and Bob flushed with pleasure atthis tribute from his comrades. He thought, and with reason, that he haddemonstrated his knowledge of automobiles to good advantage, as well ashis ability to meet emergencies.
By this time it was getting near dusk, and Bert knew that Mr. Holliswould be worried over their continued absence. Accordingly, when he goton to the main road, he threw the gears into high speed, and soon theywere bowling along at a rapid, but safe, pace toward their camp.
It would be hard to imagine a happier set of boys in the world than thosewho sat in the big red automobile in the silence of good fellowship andlistened to the contented purring of the "Red Scout's" powerful motor.
As they revolved in their minds the exciting occurrences of the day, andthought of other equally happy days yet to come, it seemed to them thatthere was indeed nothing more desirable in life than to be campers withsuch leaders as Mr. Hollis, Bert Wilson, and Dick Trent. It is safe tosay that they would not have changed places with any other set of boyson earth.
"Say, Bert," said Jim Dawson, breaking the long silence, "that race isas good as won already. I'm sure that with this machine and you drivingit, we couldn't lose if we tried. What do you think?"
Bert did not answer for a moment, and when he did his eyes twinkledmerrily. "Well, Jim," he said, "I don't know whether we'll win or notand that 'Gray Ghost' is certainly some racer. From what I have seen ofour old 'Red Scout' to-day, however,--but there, I'm not going to sayany more just now. There is no use raising your hopes, and then perhapshave nothing come of that in the end." And with that they were forcedto be content.
By this time they had almost reached the camp, and could see the smokeof the fire. Soon they rolled smoothly into camp, and Mr. Hollis came tomeet them with a relieved look on his face. At first he seemed inclinedto blame them, but Bert soon explained matters to his entiresatisfaction.
The boys mingled with their comrades, and many were the exclamations ofwonder over their day's experiences. After a short rest, supper wasprepared, and while they all voted it delicious, still they claimed thatnothing had ever tasted quite as good as their lunch in the old barn.
As Tom and Bert were dropping off to sleep that night, Tom murmureddrowsily, "Say, Bert, did we or didn't we have a bully time to-day, eh?"
"Just bet your hat we did."
"Well, say, isn't the old 'Red Scout' about the greatest automobile thatever turned a wheel?"
"That's whatever it is," concurred Bert, and dropped off to sleep with asmile on his face, and the image of a big red automobile enthroned inhis heart.
Bert Wilson at the Wheel Page 9
