CHAPTER X
QUICK WORK
"You fellows get it all," complained Steve Thomas, with as ugly a lookas such a round good-natured face as his could wear.
"You sure do seem to move in a charmed circle," chimed in anothergrumbler.
"Don't they?" echoed a third. "They ought to be called the lucky three.This is the fourth time in less than two weeks that they've had theauto."
The "lucky three," to whom these remarks were addressed, stood grinninghappily at the disgusted faces of the other fellows in camp.
The question to be settled was as to what ones should take the auto intotown for some supplies that were unexpectedly but urgently needed. Therehad been quite a lively dispute, waxing louder and louder until itthreatened to end in a genuine quarrel.
Mr. Hollis, busily finishing some letters that he wanted to send intotown by the boys, was at first too absorbed in his writing to notice theunusual disturbance, but as the recriminations grew hotter he saw thatimmediate action was necessary.
Rising hastily and taking in his hand a sheet of paper on which he hadbeen writing, he stepped from his tent into the group of heated boys.
The clamor ceased at once and when he learned the cause of thediscussion, Mr. Hollis proposed to draw lots. The fellows who shoulddraw the numbers one, two and three were to be the autoists for thetrip.
This seemed fair to all, and cutting the paper into equal strips Mr.Hollis wrote a number on each and, shaking them well in a hat passedthem around. When they had all been drawn, each one turned over his slipand looked eagerly for the sign that fate had been good to him.
The lot had fallen to Bert, Tom, and Ben. There was no appeal and therest of the camp had to submit, some, however, with so poor a grace thatMr. Hollis, smilingly genially remarked:
"Come, boys, be sports. Any fellow can growl but it takes an all-aroundmanly one to bear defeat smilingly. There's always the chance of betterluck next time."
His words and manner speedily dissipated what shreds of ill-temperremained, so that the boys gave a rousing cheer for a send-off as thecar, gleaming like red gold in the brilliant morning sunshine, shot offup the road and disappeared from their longing eyes.
As for the fortunate three in the car, everything unpleasant wasforgotten in the twinkling of an eye. A great splendid flying auto is noplace for disagreeable memories, and the woods rang with song and jokesand laughter as the car flew on.
Out of the woods at last they swept into a wide well-kept turnpike,where they could safely ride at greater speed.
Bert opened up the throttle and the "Red Scout" fairly "burned up theground." They passed a number of lumbering ox carts and farm wagonsdrawn by sedate old horses, whom nothing could dismay. Now just in frontof them they saw a runabout, drawn by two spirited bay horses evidentlyof the thoroughbred type.
As they came up behind the carriage, Tom noticed that one of the horsesbegan to prance and that the lady who held the reins glanced behindnervously.
"Wouldn't you better go rather slow," he cautioned Bert; "one of thosehorses doesn't seem to have any love for automobiles."
Accordingly, Bert was very careful as he attempted to pass the runabout;but at the first glimpse of the car the prancing horse reared up on hishind legs and lurched heavily against his mate. Startled, the otherhorse plunged forward, jerking the reins from the driver's hands. Thefeel of the loose reins on their backs completed their panic, and beforeanyone realized what was happening, the horses had taken the bit betweentheir teeth and were dashing down the road, utterly beyond control. Thecarriage swayed frightfully from side to side, and the two ladies, theirfaces blanched with fear, clung desperately to the seats.
The "lucky three," feeling not a bit lucky at that moment, were filledwith dismay.
"I suppose that's our fault," groaned Tom, "although I don't for thelife of me see how we could have helped it."
"That's not the question," said Bert, anxiously, "the only thing now ishow to help them."
"It seems to me," said Tom, "that the thing to do is to overtake them,range up alongside and then one of us jump into the carriage and gethold of the reins."
This seemed the only feasible thing and the speeding auto soon camewithin a few feet of the runaways. Bert waited till the road widened andthen shot the auto over the intervening space and drew alongside. Tomgrasped the wheel and Bert, watching his chance, sprang into thecarriage. The double motion hurled him backward and almost out on theroad, but with a desperate effort, he succeeded in grasping the back ofthe seat and held on. Then climbing over, he made his perilous way outupon the shaft between the flying horses and snatched the reins. Uponthese he pulled and sawed with all his strength until he at last broughtthe frightened beasts under control.
Tom and Ben, seeing their opportunity, stopped the machine, and, runningto the horses' heads, brought them to a standstill. They helped thetrembling women to alight and with cushions and robes hastily broughtfrom the auto made them a comfortable seat at the foot of a tree by theroadside. Ben, bethinking himself of the drinking cup that was part ofthe auto's equipment, filled it with water from a nearby spring, andunder these attentions the ladies somewhat recovered from theirterrifying experience. The elder of the two turned to the boys and triedto express her heartfelt gratitude, while, if the younger was to bebelieved, they had proved themselves veritable heroes. This theymodestly disclaimed and declared they were only too delighted to havebeen able to stop the team before any serious harm had been done.
Meanwhile the horses stood panting and trembling at the side of theroad. Evidently it would not be safe to attempt to drive them again atpresent, and they were greatly relieved when a young farmer, who hadseen the runaway, came up and offered to keep them overnight in hisbarn.
The horses thus disposed of, the "lucky three" offered gallantly todrive the ladies home in their car. So, fastening the runabout to therear of the auto and seating their guests comfortably in the tonneau,the boys crowded into the driver's seat and were soon gliding up a broadavenue of elms that ended at the spacious and elegant home to which theyhad been directed. Declining a pressing invitation to enter, the boys,followed by their repeated thanks, started off with redoubled speed ontheir original errand.
Without further adventure they secured their supplies and turnedtoward home. What was their surprise as they neared the camp to seea procession of the fellows coming down the road, some beating onimaginary drums, others blowing on horns, still others with harmonicasand jewsharps, but managing in some unaccountable way to evolve thewell-known air of
"Hark! The Conquering Hero Comes!"
It was evident that the news of their adventure had preceded them.
The "Gray Ghost," coming over to the camp to discuss some detail of theforthcoming race, had overtaken the farmer leading the runaway horsesand had learned the particulars. Hence the impromptu band and thenerve-racking rendition of the triumphal welcome. It was comical butcordial, and the boys would not have been human had they failed toappreciate it. And later on their hearts thrilled with still greaterpleasure at Mr. Hollis' earnest words of commendation.
They were soon seated at the table with their guests from the rivalcamp, and in the discussion of the anticipated race all else wasforgotten. They had not finished before a strange automobile rolled upand the colored chauffeur lifting a large basket from the car and bowinglow, announced that it was for Mr. Bert Wilson and his friends from theladies whom they had rescued that day from deadly peril.
Many and loud were the exclamations of delight when the basket was foundto be filled with the mostly costly and delicious fruit. Before theonslaught of the crowd it vanished like magic and Jim urged the boys tostop a team of runaways every day that summer.
The fruit seemed to the boys the last souvenir of that memorable day, socrowded with incident and accident. But it was not. The "lucky three"were to be reminded of this day's adventure in a most unexpected mannerbefore the season ended.
Bert Wilson at the Wheel Page 10
