by Sophie May
CHAPTER XII
NAN AND THE JERSEY BULL
There came a soft clatter of feet on the shaded greensward, and intoview came the flying form of a girl, barefooted, sunbonneted, with acheap calico gown showing a pair of graceful ankles, her touzled butabundant hair hardly half held by the pins. A second glance assured theboys that they knew that reddish coiffure, though now in disarray, andthat supple form. It was undoubtedly the girl of the hay wagon, herfinery laid away, and now chastely clad in the dangerously skimpy homeattire, wherever that still mysterious home of hers might be.
Seeing the boys, their car, and the remains of the noonday meal, shepaused, hesitated, then burst forward, exclaiming:
"Oh, oh! It's you, is it?" She gave a frightened glance behind her, andat the same time the boys thought they detected a low but growing rumbleindicative of a coming bellow. "I'm so glad--ah-h! Listen at him!"
"What is it, Miss Nan?" queried Phil, at once alert.
"It's Dad's Jersey bull," she said. "He's got loose somehow."
Just then the rumble rose into an unmistakable bellow, and a yellowish,bovine form hove into sight from the timber, halted and stared wildlyabout. First he saw the boys and the barefooted girl. Then, lashing histail, he came on at a galloping run, uttering angry snorts at everystep.
Realizing before the others that here might be actual danger, Phil againrose to the emergency. He pulled out a flaming scarlet bandanahandkerchief, which Paul had more than once made fun of, and which Philseldom was caught using. Happening to have it with him now, Phil pointedat the Big Six standing near, bright colored and easily attractive to amad bull.
He darted toward the oncoming Jersey, crying:
"All of you get in the car--quick! I'll draw the bull! When he takesafter me start her up! Then I'll take a chance and jump in, if you'llswing round near me. Hump yourselves!"
Dave at once saw what Phil was up to. He wanted to save the car from thebull's attack, for the animal was in a mood to attack anything brightenough, gay enough. Before Phil had finished, Dave sprang into thedriver's seat, while Paul and Billy, both assisting the girl, jumpedinto the tonneau. Dave released the clutch and off they went, the bullmissing the rear end by hardly a yard.
Daunted by the fierce snorts emitted by the car the bull halted,roaring. Then his eye caught the flare of a brilliant red something thatPhil was waving to and fro under his inflamed nostrils. The sight ofscarlet always went to his bullish head, and now made him more mad. Withanother louder roar his bullship turned furiously on this new tormentor.
For several moments it was nip and tuck between the Jersey and his foe,who always was just behind that flaring expanse of scarlet. Only a briefspell of such hairbreadth maneuvering was sufficient to produceshortness of breath on Phil's part, at least.
Would that car never wheel in his direction? Fearing exhaustion, butflirting the bandana behind him, Phil made straight for the shady copseunder which they had dined. Then he vanished so quickly that Mr. Bull,scenting mystery, halted and lashed his flanks with his tail. Dave sawthe trick Phil was playing. His car veered round the other side of thecopse, whirling up to within ten feet of where Phil stood panting, whilethe Jersey plunged round the far side. Paul flung open the door of thetonneau.
"In with you, Phil! Lively now!" came the command.
Phil made the first leap, then the second. His face was red withexertion, his legs wabbly under the strain they had been under, and atthe third and final plunge they threatened to give way under him. With ahalf cry, half scream, Nan pushed herself through the door Paul washolding wide open, as the car veered close under Dave's dexterous hand.
"Ketch my hand, mister!" she cried and managed to clutch Phil's fingersin a grip surprisingly strong for a girl. With his free hand Paulclutched Phil's other hand and the two managed to half drag, half pullPhil inside, where he fell panting to the floor of the tonneau.
Meantime Dave, far from idle, saw that Phil was making the connection.He also saw that Mr. Bull was dangerously near making another kind ofconnection with the near wheel's guard with one of those sharp pointedhorns.
"Here we go!" he shouted, and the Big Six made a powerful springforward, beyond the reach of this four-footed terror that bawled, glaredand snorted in a now vain pursuit.
Both Paul and Nan helped Phil up and, with a gasp or two he sank back onthe seat, still flourishing the kerchief.
"Well, what d'you think of that!" cried Paul, after assuring himselfthat Phil was all right. "Did you ever see a madder bull?"
Meanwhile Dave, taking to the road again, soon placed distance and sometimber growth between themselves in the Big Six and the bull.
"Well, Miss Nan," said Phil, who had recovered, "that was what you werescared at and I don't wonder. Does he often do that way?"
"Not often." The girl was trying to hide her feet, somehow feeling thatshe was now where clothes assume greater importance than they do at homeon the farm. "I was out after blueberries. Sam--that's what we callhim--had got out of the pasture, and when he saw me I think a bee orsomething had stung him. Anyway, he blamed it on me. He took after mefull tilt and I had to run. I don't know what I'd done but for you all."
"I'm sure we were glad to be where we could help," encouraged Phil,"though I feel sure I don't long for another such narrow escape. I mustthank you, too, Miss Nan, for helping Paul drag me aboard, for I wasabout all in."
"Don't you worry, Nan," broke in Paul, who had been taking in the girl'sembarrassment. "I lived on a farm when I was smaller, and we didn'tbother much about how we dressed. I'm sure you look well, no matter whatclothes you wear."
Nan blushed while Paul, feeling that he had done well, turned to Dave.
"Where you going now, Mac?"
"Just jogging along. But perhaps we better stop and find out what we'regoing to do next. What you think, Phil?"
"Oh, there's my berry pail!" said the girl, pointing at an overturnedtin bucket near the roadside. "If you will let me out I'll be going on."
"Do you live near? But of course you do, or you wouldn't have run acrossyour bull. Could we take you home?" This from Phil.
"I--I wouldn't mind," she rather hesitatingly said. "But I must get thepail." And out she jumped, running to the overturned bucket, scooping upmost of the berries that had been spilled, then hurrying back, saying asshe got in:
"I wouldn't bother you but there's an old tumble-down house that folkssay has a ghost or something near here. It used to be a tavern 'way backyears ago. Somehow I always dread to go near it alone, and I always goround it when I'm out after blueberries, but this road goes right nearit."
"Why, I don't see any sign of a house round here," remarked Dave. "I'vestuck to this old road because I supposed it would lead somewhere."
"I know," she returned. "The woods, so plentiful about here, arethicker'n ever where the ruins be. We're about two miles from my house.It's more open there; fields and so on. Sam must 'a' strayed a goodbit."
"We'll take you home, Nan," quoth Paul, and Billy nodded in assent. "Butmaybe you could tell us more about that house. When we get close, youknow."
Here Phil gave both the other boys a warning look as he inquired if theymust turn round in order to go where her home lay. Nan nodded, pointingeastward as she replied:
"Just follow the road the way I'm pointing now. I'll tell you when weget nearest to that old place. It's about two miles to our house fromthere."
Congratulating himself that they were so easily put in the way offinding what they had come so far to see, Phil passed the signal roundfor the others to keep still and let him do the talking.
By this time Nan was much more at her ease with the boys. She told themof the extent of the woods and how she lived on a small farm at one edgeof the great second-growth timber which was the predominating feature ofthis half swampy section. Moreover Phil, too, noted that here and therewere larger hemlock trees, though none of very great size or ancientappearance.
"Has anyone seen the ghost lately?" queried
Phil. "Is it a real ghost,or merely the echo of tales that have been current around here foryears?"
"I'm sure I don't know," said Nan. "Once, not long ago, father and Iwere riding by after dark. I'm sure I saw a kind of brightness in thethick woods where we knew that old tavern was. It was brighter, yetsomehow pale; made me think of ghosts right away."
"What did your father think of it?"
"He never said, but when I spoke of it he drove along faster; but allhe'd say was, 'Shucks!' I guess he don't more'n half believe in themghosts nohow."
They laughed at this, but they noted that the timber grew thicker as thecar glided at slow speed along the little used road. Finally Nan beganpointing in a certain direction as the road curved, and a thicker growthof cedar, pine and other evergreens began not far away.
"It's somewhere in there," she said. "We'll glimpse some of the roof andwalls presently."
Sure enough, as the car hummed along, through the thick foliage theyglimpsed weather beaten walls and parts of a roof covered by roughlyrived boards, with gaps here and there, and all brown with age. Itlooked as if it might be eighty to a hundred yards back from the merewagon trail the road had now become.
"Shall we stop and take a look?" asked MacLester, gradually slowing up."It's bright, noonday sunshine and if there are any haants about, Ireckon now's the time of day when they take a rest."
But as the car slowed down Nan's alarm began to increase. Phil watchedher curiously. She did not look like a girl unduly afraid of ghosts, atmidday especially. Yet it was plain enough to see that she was vaguelyuneasy. After all, why stop now? They knew where the old tavern was andcould begin their investigations later. Besides, they did not wantoutside witnesses.
"Better drive on, Davy," said Phil. "We must take Miss Nan home."
The girl's relief was evident at once when Dave increased the speed. Inanother minute or so the house was no longer visible. Paul, lookingback, said half to himself:
"It's a cinch, Phil! By Ned! I'm going to see more of it before night,or bust a trace!"
"Ugh!" shuddered Nan. "You can't mean that you want to go back there, doyou?"
"Why not? We're strangers round here and when we find something curiousyet unknown, that scares off the folks that have lived by it for years,it's only natural to get our curiosity up to a point that we've just_got_ to do something."
The car sped on through the woods, then past open fields and soon theycame up to a rather battered farmhouse with sundry outbuildings near itand stacks of hay which had been cut evidently from the neighboringmarshes that jutted in and out of the timbered lands. At the gate Nansprang down, and at the same time out came the farmer, followed by thesame boy they had before seen on the hay-load.
Being invited inside, the boys entered the sitting-room, where two othermen, garbed more like town dwellers, were seated. The farmer greeted theboys warmly, recalling to them their kindly behavior along the side-hillroad a day or so before. At the same time the two men got up to leave,giving the farmer a modest price for their dinners and remarking thatthey might be back again shortly.
"Keep a bright lookout, Mr. Feeney. No knowing what you might run upagainst," one said and they were gone. After this the boys had asociable chat with Feeney, who pressed them to stay all night.
"Shan't cost you a cent, boys, for you were good to us when Jack andJill might have balked and dumped us over that bluff."
"Well, it is possible we may come back. But in the meantime we want tohave a look round at the timber."
"Int'rested in timber, are ye? How'd ye come to meet up with Nan?"
The incidents connected with the Jersey bull were briefly related, Nanemphasizing how Phil had risked himself in her behalf and that they hadkindly brought her home. This too pleased Feeney, who insisted more thanbefore that they should stop with him while they were in theneighborhood.
"This is, in the main, a thick settled country, lads," said Feeney. "Butright about here for a few miles there's hardly anybody but us reallylivin' here."
"It may be that we will take up your offer," remarked Phil. "But youmust not let us stop here unless we pay you a fair price. If those mencome back you'll hardly have room for more."
"Don't worry about that. We'll make room. Them men, I don't know whatthey be up to. They won't be back from Midlandville for a day or two, Iguess."
With no definite promise to return the boys left, going along the roadthey had come with Nan, and on the way Phil busied himself in studyingthe pencilled map on the old envelope which had been given to Paul byCoster.
There was a square in the center marked "Tavern," doubtless the placethe boys had seen that day through the thick timber growth. A straightline ran off in one direction to a point marked on the border of the map"south," followed by the note: "From Tavern half a mile." Close to thiswas a rude skeleton, with a black spot close by marked "treasure rock."The skeleton of a tree had a huge split through the trunk, in which werethe words "big split hemlock."
On the opposite edge of the map marked "north" was added "to railroad,half-mile." East and west through the center, lengthwise of theenvelope, ran an irregular line close by the tavern, which was indicatedby the word "highway."
The whole thing was simple and seemingly plain, and all they apparentlyhad to do was to take a due south course from this building shown as theghost tavern, for half a mile. Right near where they had paused when Nanwas showing glimpses of the old building, they turned the car into agrove of young second-growth spruces and halted. They were now hiddenfrom view from the road, that was clear.
"Can we leave this car here safely?" queried Billy dubiously.
"I doubt if it is safe," replied Dave, naturally cautious where the BigSix was concerned. "Billy, let's you and me flip a nickel to see whostays with the car. I ain't anxious to go that half mile; I _am_ anxiousto know the car'll be here when we come back."
After some discussion there was a toss up and Dave won. Billy lookedvexed.
"Aw, what's the use of anyone staying?" he growled. "The car's safeenough."
"What is the use of running risks?" rebuked Phil. "After what we wentthrough back at Griffin we must take no more chances."
Worth resigned himself to the inevitable, but it was evident that hewould much rather have gone with the others.
As the three boys disappeared Billy blinked a while, finally stretchingout in the tonneau, pulling over himself Paul's big rug and--though hedid not mean to--he soon fell asleep. The woods were unusually quiet; nowind, much shade, with a soothing buzz and hum of insects that was initself conducive to drowsiness.
The other three, not deeming it necessary to actually visit the oldtavern just then, took the compass with which Paul had provided himselfand struck out due south.
"How will we know when we have gone half a mile?" suddenly questionedPaul. "It's too thick with underbrush to pace off so many yards. Say,how many yards in half a mile? Anyone know?"
"Seventeen-sixty in a mile," said Dave, drawing from his pocket one ofthose circular shielded tape measures. "Figure it out for yourselves."
"Eight hundred and eighty, you gander!" This from Paul, looking afterPhil, who had gone on ahead with the compass. "Gimme hold of one end!How long is the thing, anyhow?"
Stretched out, it seemed that the tape was ten yards long. With Paullinking a finger in the ring and Dave holding the circular shield, theboys began their march after Phil. Paul, breaking a twig when he came toa stopping place, would forge on again with Dave carefully following,keeping the line taut until Paul, stumbling, jerked the reel from Dave'shand and thereby created some confusion. Both had been keeping count ofeach ten yards, but there was a difference of one length of the tapebetween.
"Aw--why didn't you hold to your end? I tell you my count is right!"
"No, it ain't," was MacLester's reply. "What I know, I _know!_"
This difficulty finally adjusted, the pair resumed their march in Phil'swake, who had taken particular pains to leave a trail of broken branchesso th
at the rest could follow. Going thus, they diligently but slowlykept on until Dave suddenly looked up, shouting:
"Eighty-eight lengths! We're there--eight hundred and eighty yards.Hullo! What's become of Phil?"
No Phil was in sight.
