Bert Wilson, Marathon Winner

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Bert Wilson, Marathon Winner Page 3

by John Kendrick Bangs


  CHAPTER III

  A RUN FOR LIFE

  Quick as lightning Bert slashed at the wicked head with a heavy stick hehad been carrying. It caught the snake just as it darted forward andbroke its back. It fell, twisting and writhing, and Bert throwing awayhis stick leaped to Tom's side.

  "Did he get you, Tom?" he asked, with a horrible fear tugging at hisheart.

  "I don't know," answered Tom, trying to smile. "He seemed to betangled up in my sleeve. Perhaps his teeth didn't go through. But Ifeel--rather--queer."

  In an instant Dick and Bert yanked off Tom's coat and rolled up hisshirt sleeve. Their hearts almost stopped beating. There, just below theelbow were two tiny punctures, fiery red against the white skin.

  Like a flash Dick's lips were on the wound as he strove to draw out thevenom. Bert whipped out his handkerchief and tied it tightly just abovethose ominous spots. Then he thrust a stick through the folds andtwisted it until Tom grew white with the pain.

  Drawing his whistle from his pocket, Bert blew loud and shrill a seriesof short and long notes in the Morse alphabet that told of deadly needand peril. He knew that if it reached the ears of Mr. Hollis it wouldbring him instantly.

  And now for a doctor. But where? He cast wildly about him and his heartsank as he realized that there was none nearer than the county townfourteen miles away. Fourteen long miles over a rough forest road. Therewas no telephone or telegraph in that wilderness. The only horse on theplace was a sedate old brute who couldn't be flogged into a gallop.There was one thing to do and only one. He leaped to his feet.

  At that moment an answering whistle came over the hill, telling him thatMr. Hollis had heard and was coming.

  "I'm off," Bert cried to Dick. "Keep a stiff upper lip, old man," as heclapped Tom on the shoulder. Another moment and the woods closed roundhim.

  Those giant trees, centuries old, had seen some strange sights in theirtime. Perhaps in the old days some Indian brave in pursuit of his quarryor himself pressed hard by enemies had passed beneath them like theflight of an arrow. But it is doubtful if they had ever seen a white manrunning at such speed as Bert's, as like a young Mercury with wingedheels he rushed along under their branches. Life was at stake--Tom'slife, he reflected as a pang tore through him--and he must run as he hadnever run before if he were to come out winner.

  The road itself was a fearful handicap. It was little more than awoodcutter's path, ridged by deep furrows, dotted here and there withstumps, strewn with branches blown down in storms. Even where it wascomparatively clear, the pine needles that carpeted it in spots offereda slippery and treacherous footing. Low-hanging branches brushed hisface, long creepers reached out to grasp his flying feet. If he shouldonce slip or trip or sprain an ankle--. He shuddered and ran on.

  He had started off at a terrific pace and had covered three miles ormore at top speed. Then the strain began to tell. His lungs werelaboring and his breath came in gasps that were almost sobs. He took agrip on himself. At this rate he would collapse before he had gone fivemiles. He must husband his strength or he would never reach the end ofhis journey. And then----.

  At the thought he slackened speed and fell into the long steady lopethat yet covered the ground at an amazing rate. His breathing becameeasier and he knew that he would soon get his second wind. Then he feltthat he could run all day.

  Now he had made half the distance and from the crown of a hill he caughtsight of the far-off spire of a church that marked the location of thetown. It put new speed into his feet and life into his veins. He wouldwin through. He must win through. Yet through his self assurance came attimes the terrible thought--suppose that after all he should be toolate.

  A fierce rage against the whole snake family took possession of him.Again he heard the blood-curdling rattle; again he saw the maliciouseyes in which a devil lurked, the ugly triangular head, the long slimydiamond-marked body that turned him sick with loathing. He could havewished that all the venomous tribe had been compressed in one, that hemight kill it with a single blow.

  But he shook off this feeling. Hate weakened him--taxed too heavily hisvital forces. He must concentrate on just one thing--Tom and theterrible need for haste.

  Now he was running easily. His wind was in good condition. His legs hadtaken on new strength. The only danger left was the path. If he couldavoid injury that would cripple him, he knew he could win. He had shedhat and coat and vest, had even thrown away his knife and whistle tolighten himself by every ounce for the final sprint. A mountain brooklay in his path. He stooped, dashed the water over his head and ran on.

  At last the woods became less dense. Scattered clearings here andthere told him he was reaching the outskirts of the town. He passed afarmhouse, then another. He caught a glimpse of people at doors andwindows staring at him as though at an apparition. A team drew hastilyaside to let him pass. A straggling line of houses marked the entranceto the town. Just as he reached the main street, he caught sight of adoctor's sign, and dashing upon the porch hammered at the door.

  The woman who opened it started back at the sight of him. He wasdripping with sweat, his face was haggard and drawn, his eyes burningwith excitement.

  "The doctor," he gasped.

  "Here he is," said a tall, keen-faced man, appearing at this moment."What is it?"

  Between gasps Bert made known his errand. The doctor's face grew grave.

  "Sit down," he said, "and I'll harness up and be with you in a minute."And he hurriedly left the room.

  But Bert was thinking quickly. Over that rough road and largelyuphill, even a good horse--and the doctor's nag was not likely to be athoroughbred--would find it hard to negotiate the distance within twohours. And what might happen to Tom in that time he did not dare tothink. What could he do? And then like a flash came the solution. TheRed Scout! She could make it in twenty minutes.

  Without a word he rushed out of the house and across to the combinationlivery and garage where the machine was stored. There it stood, the mostconspicuous object in the place, with all trace of its journey removedand its cylinders shining. It was the work of a moment to explainmatters to the proprietor and see that there was plenty of gasoline inthe tank. He sprang to the driver's seat, threw in the clutch and glidedswiftly out to the road. So that when the doctor drove around the sideof the house he was astonished to see the great car come swooping downupon him.

  "All ready, doctor," shouted the wild-eyed youth at the wheel, "comealong."

  "You'll never make it," he protested, "on this road. You'll split itapart. You'll tear it to pieces."

  "We will make it," cried Bert. "We _must_ make it. Jump in."

  For a moment the doctor hesitated. He knew--none better--the need ofhaste. Still his own life was precious. Then he rose to the occasion.His sporting blood was roused. He would take a chance. He swung his caseinto the tonneau and leaped in after it. "Let her go," he called.

  And Bert let her go!

  The doctor saw some "demon driving" that day. The great machine sprangforward like an arrow released from the string. The cheer that rose fromthe little knot of townspeople who had hastily collected was lost in theroar of the exhaust. The town itself melted away like a dream. The windwhistled past them with a shriek. In a moment they had passed thestraggling farmhouses and entered on the road that led upwards throughthe woods.

  Crouched low over the wheel to offer as little resistance as possible tothe wind, Bert kept his eye glued on the path ahead. To strike a treemeant death. Collision with a stump would be wreck and disaster. The carlunged from side to side and the doctor, down on the floor of thetonneau, held on for his life. Again and again they grazed death by ahair's-breadth and escaped as by a miracle. Yielding to Bert's slightesttouch, the Scout evaded a stump here, a gully there, part of the time ontwo wheels, again on three, but always righting in time. And all thewhile, it was climbing, climbing----.

  Now they had covered three-fourths of the distance and his heart leapedin a wild riot of exultation. He patted the wheel, soo
thed it, talked toit as though it could understand.

  "Go it, old scout," he muttered, "keep it up. We'll get there yet. We'rerunning for Tom. You know Tom, good old Tom. You've carried him many atime. Now perhaps he's dying. Hurry, hurry, hurry."

  His own fierce energy seemed to impart itself to the car. On it wentuntil it topped the rise of the clearing, swung into the road that ledto the lodge, and with a triumphal blast from its horn tore up to thedoor. Before it had fairly stopped, Bert leaped from his seat and thedoctor stepped down from the tonneau, his face set and drawn from theperilous ride.

  "Thank God, you've come," cried Mr. Hollis appearing at the door. "Ididn't dare to hope for you for two hours yet. Come in, quick."

  There was no time for further explanations, but in the course of thefight for Tom's life that followed, Bert learned of what had happenedsince he had started on his run for help. Warned by the whistle, Mr.Hollis and the caretaker had hurried to Dick's side, and together theyhad carried Tom to the house. They had kept the ligature tight and hadcut out the part immediately surrounding the wound. By the greatestefforts they had fought off the deadly coma, but, despite it all, hewas fast lapsing into unconsciousness when the doctor appeared.

  Faced by a peril that he knew, the doctor pulled himself together andbecame the cool, alert man of science. Such cases were familiar to himin that wild district, and there was no hesitation or uncertainty in histreatment. His quick sharp commands found ready obedience from hiswilling helpers, and after an hour of the hardest kind of work the fightwas won. Tom's pulse became more normal, his brow grew moist and heopened his eyes and smiled faintly at the group around him. The doctorrose.

  "He'll be all right now," he said. "The fangs just missed the largevein, or he'd have been done for. As it is, we've barely pulled himthrough. If we'd been an hour later, I wouldn't have answered for him.We can thank this young man," looking at Bert, "for saving his friend'slife. By George, such driving! I've never ridden so fast before and Inever want to again. A little more of that and I'd be a candidate myselffor the hospital or insane asylum. How we escaped being dashed to piecesI don't know."

  "It was great luck," said Bert.

  "It was great skill," ejaculated Dick.

  "It was Providence," said Mr. Hollis gravely, and no one cared todispute him.

  After Tom was sleeping naturally and healthfully, and Bert and thedoctor had bathed and dressed, they sat down to dinner. It was a quietmeal as all were feeling the reaction from the tremendous efforts of themorning. But their fatigue was lost in thankfulness. They had matchedtheir forces against death and this time had won. But by how narrow amargin!

  Dinner over, they strolled down the path to the scene of the encounter.There lay the cause of all the trouble. The long body, as thick as aman's wrist, stretched out in a wavy line across the road. The diamondmarkings had dulled somewhat, but the staring eyes still seemed lit withmalice.

  "What a holy terror!" exclaimed Dick.

  "Yes," said the doctor. "He's an old-timer, sure enough. He must be overfive feet long and eleven years old, as you can see from his rattles. Ifyou don't mind, I'll take these rattles along and hang them up in myoffice. They'll serve to remind me of the most stirring incident in mylife so far," and he smiled, mischievously, at Bert.

  "Take them and welcome as far as I'm concerned," said Bert. "For my partI never want to see another snake, living or dead, for the rest of mynatural life." And as every one else felt the same way, the doctorneatly severed the grisly memento, to be duly dried and mounted in hissanctum.

  Bert offered to take the doctor back to town in the auto, but the othersput in an emphatic veto.

  "No, you don't," said Mr. Hollis. "Not another thing for you to-day butrest."

  "You bet there isn't," echoed Dick. "Even Reddy, tyrant that he is,would agree that you'd had exercise enough for one day. I'll take thedoctor down myself. He won't go back as fast as he came up, but he'll bemore comfortable. I always look out for the safety of _my_ passengers,"he added, with mock severity.

  The doctor grinned appreciatively. "Slow down to a walk as far as I'mconcerned," he said. "My appetite for speed has been satisfied for along time to come. Any more just now would give me indigestion."

  Dick's plan was to put the Red Scout in the garage, stay at the hotelthat night and walk back in the morning. But the doctor who had taken agreat liking to these young specimens of manhood overruled this, andinsisted so strongly that Dick should be his guest over night that thiswas finally agreed upon.

  "I'll bring you back in the buckboard," he said, "when I come upto-morrow to see how our patient is getting along. In the meantime,don't worry. The worst is over and it's only a matter of careful nursingfor the next few days and he'll be on his feet again. His youth andvitality and clean life, together with the 'first aid' you gave him havepulled him through."

  "Not to mention the doctor and Bert and the 'Red Scout,'" added Mr.Hollis.

  The doctor laughed and stepped into the machine. Dick took the wheel andthe splendid car, none the worse for its wild ride, started on its wayback to town, while Bert and Mr. Hollis, standing on the porch, lookedafter it almost as affectionately as though it had been human.

  "Tally one more for the good old Scout," murmured Bert, as he turnedaway.

  That evening, his face still flushed at the heartfelt praise of hishost, Bert went in to bid Tom good-night. The patient was getting onfamously, but the shock to his system still persisted and he had beenforbidden to do much talking. But the pressure of his hand on Bert's andthe look in his eyes were eloquent.

  "Do you remember, Bert," he half whispered, "what Reddy said the lasttime you saw him?"

  "Why, no," answered Bert, puzzled, and cudgeling his memory, "nothingspecial. What did he say?"

  Tom smiled. "You're fit to run for a man's life."

 

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