Great Hike: or, The Pride of the Khaki Troop

"Keep your hands off, Felix; this is our job, and you don't want to know anything about it. Go right along the road now, and close your eyes and ears. You've got a snap, and a soft one at that. Here, let go of me, you fool! We're your friends, d'ye hear! Quit it, I tell you! Wow! What's this mean, fellows?" And the one who was making all this outcry suddenly changed his tune from indignation to fright, as he noticed other vigorous forms attacking his companions.

CHAPTER XIV.

HOW THE PLOT FAILED

"Help, help! he's choking me! Pull him off, you fools, can't you?" shouted the valiant leader of the four, who had planned to have all this fun with Lil Artha, and now found that the shoe was on the other foot, since it seemed to be the tall scout who was enjoying a monopoly of the sport.

But instead of his mates obeying, he found that they had suddenly ceased in what efforts they were putting forth. The mystery was not difficult to solve, because every fellow had enough to do defending himself against an assailant who had apparently sprung from the darkness.

It was a lively scene for a short time. The Fairfield fellows understood that in some miserable way their scheme must have become known to the Hickory Ridge scouts. Perhaps they heard Toby call out the name of Elmer when asking what he was to do with the fellow on whose back he had lodged with the tenacity that the Old Man of the Sea exhibited when he refused to let Sinbad the Sailor put him down.

They struggled hard, but it was no longer with the idea of completing their cowardly plan. All thought of carrying Lil Artha off in the car was now abandoned, and each and every Fairfield fellow only considered his individual chances for making what Nat called a "get-away."

Speaking of Nat, that worthy was really and truly happy. Old times had come back again, and once more were his muscles being allowed to play their part in a struggle for the mastery.

He had early picked out the victim whom he felt called upon to punish. If pugnacious Nat could only have had his sweet way about the matter, that party would undoubtedly have been the leader of the four Fairfield schemers; but since Lil Artha already had that worthy "in chancery," as it is called when one gets his opponent's head under his arm and in a position of abject helplessness, Nat had to content himself with selecting a less prominent foeman.

What happened just then and there it would be hardly fair to state, because of the fact that Nat was a scout in good standing. But there were several loud thumps heard, and somebody seemed to pick himself up from the road twice, only to suddenly sit down again, with more grunts and finally decline to get up at all. Upon which Nat danced around him, making threatening gestures, and actually daring the alarmed plotter to try and get on his feet again.

Elmer, on his part, had happened to lay hold of a very slippery customer. The Hickory Ridge scout did not want to hurt the fellow any more than he could help; but at the same time he was bound to do all in his power to hold him; for he meant to take a look at every one of their faces, so that he could tell them again.

Twice the other had come close to slipping out of his clutches, despite the grip Elmer had upon him. The second occasion was when with some sort of movement, which he had possibly practiced until he had it down fine, the boy suddenly drew his arms out of the sleeves of his coat, and was in the act of darting away when Elmer threw out a foot and tripped him.

Again he pounced on the other, and this time managed to get a good grip, so as to be able to exert himself. The consequence was that he spun the Fairfield chap around on his back and was able to place a knee on his chest.

"Now, lie still, you, unless you want to get hurt!" Elmer exclaimed; and being by this time of the opinion that he had run up against a buzz-saw in action, the panting and defeated plotter gave in.

The clamor had for the most part ceased. Only Nat seemed to be doing an Indian war dance around his prostrate foeman and shaking his fist every little while in the fellow's face.

"Don't hit me!" yelled the alarmed one. "I'm all in, don't you see? I cave! I'm a prisoner, and scouts don't dare hit a defenseless fellow, do they?"

"Aw, you make me think of a coward that would hide behind a woman's skirts!" declared Nat, in disgust, because his enjoyment had been so suddenly cut short by the collapse of his opponent. "Why don't you stand up and take your medicine like a little man? Just because I belong to the scouts I ain't allowed to hand you what you'd give me if you had the upper hand. It's tough, that's what."

Possibly Nat might have been tempted beyond his powers of resistance but for the fact of the patrol leader's presence.

"Hold up there, Nat, Toby, Lil Artha!" called out Elmer just then. "How is the world treating you, fellows?"

"All to the good here," chuckled Toby, who was still clinging to the back of his capture and showed no inclination to let go.

"My pig looks like thirty cents!" said the tall scout who, left to himself, had speedily reduced his opponent.

"And mine is on the blink, too," declared Nat.

"Shucks, I ain't had hardly a mite of fun out of it all! He laid down on me, that's what he did, Elmer."

"'Taint so," bawled the fellow, indignantly. "He just went and knocked me down two times, and here he goes now waving his old fist under my nose like he wanted to do it some more. Call him off, Elmer, the game's all up and we cave!"

"All right, boys, glad to hear it," sang out the patrol leader; "but before we let you go we're bound to have a look at every one of your faces, so we can know you again."

There was more or less muttering at this, for the Fairfield boys began to see that they were doubtless in for considerable unenviable publicity on account of the affair. But beggars can seldom be choosers. They found themselves helpless in the hands of their enemies, and must do exactly what they were told.

So Elmer took out his match-safe and prepared to strike a light.

"See if you know the fellow you've got hold of, boys," he called.

Then the little illumination flared up.

"I know this duck all right!" called out Toby. "He's Dick Rawlings who used to play center field on the Fairfield nine."

"And I've got Eddie Johnston, just as I expected!" announced Lil Artha who, it will be remembered, had seized upon the leader of the quartette by whom he had been stopped on the road with the demand that he ride, whether he wanted to do so or not.

"I don't seem to know this cowardly cub," declared Nat, who had lighted a match on his own account, and bent low over his prisoner. "He makes the worst faces you ever saw, just to keep me from knowing him again. Here, stop your throwing your head around that way, or else you'll get burned! Hey! what did I tell you? Got a little dose of it then, did you? And one of your eyebrows singed right off! Well, you will be a beaut for a while now, and I reckon I can put my finger on you any time I want."

"You did that apurpose!" shouted the fellow on the ground, glaring at the grinning Nat. "You just wanted to mark me, that's what!"

"Oh, rats! Close your trap now and see how you can run," laughed Nat, as he took a firm grip on the collar of the other, and started to drag him up off the ground, the fellow whimpering all the while as though he really expected that he was going to be badly treated.

"Who's your bug, Elmer?" cried Lil Artha.

"I think his name is Sandy Coons; anyhow he's got cross-eyes and that ought to mark him, if ever we want to prove that he was here," replied the patrol leader, as he assisted the fellow to get up.

"That's O. K., Elmer," declared Lil Artha. "Sandy Coons has got a pair of the crookedest eyes ever; and if you look close you'll see he's got a notch in his right ear. I remember when he got that, too; a fellow he was with pinned his ear to a tree with an arrow he fired, when they were playing Buffalo Bill's Wild West, and when Sandy tore loose it left a dent. Is it there, Elmer?"

"Sure as you live," laughed the other, as he looked.

"Then we know the whole cahoot of 'em," declared Lil Artha, "And now, please hurry up and get 'em on the jump, Elmer, because it's time I was hiking out again, you understand."

"What're you going to do with us, fellows?" asked the leader, as they were being ranged in line.

"We're going to start you down the road to meet Felix and tell him the game's all up," said Toby, who seemed to believe the Fairfield competitor must be aware of the scheme by means of which he was to be benefited; though Elmer on his part thought better of the rival scout.

"But – our car is here," expostulated one of the prisoners.

"Then come back and get it later on; we don't mean to run away with it. But if you take my advice, you'll cut for home right away, because this thing has gone to the limit. And anyone trying to hamper Lil Artha any further is liable to get himself seriously hurt. Understand that, all?" and Elmer allowed his voice to express the indignation that surged through his soul.

"Aw, let us loose! You know we've thrown up the sponge, and it's to the tall timber for the lot," grumbled the leader.

Nat suddenly made a rapid movement. There was a cry, and then a fellow started at a rapid pace along the road. Nat, unable to hold in any longer, had given his prisoner the start he promised, which, of course, meant a hearty kick.

Elmer let his captive go scot-free, which fact so aroused the indignation of Nat that he darted after the fleeing Sandy Coons, and by rapid work succeeded in placing his number seven in the place where it would do the most good. At least the others judged this from the agonized shriek that floated back to their ears.

Lil Artha was quick to see a good thing and show his appreciation. In his mind imitation was the sincerest flattery; and accordingly the successor in the bully line to Matt Tubbs was heard to loudly declare that he would never, never cease to remember the long-legged scout; but upon hearing the aggressive Nat making in his direction he, too, faded away.

That left only one to be treated, and this the chap whom Toby had been riding as he might a horse. This fellow, understanding that he was in for a good dose of the same kind of medicine, began struggling again, hoping to upset his captor and in some way make off without submitting to that humiliating experience.

It was of no use, however. Lil Artha took hold of him, and then told Toby to let go. There was some little confusion, and then the fellow galloped madly up the road, bellowing as though in pain.

"Did you get him?" asked Toby, eagerly.