Great Hike: or, The Pride of the Khaki Troop

"Well, I nearly broke my toe, because you see I'm wearing light walking shoes on this hike. And how about you, Toby?" laughed the tall one.

"Dick Rawlings won't play ball for a little while; till he gets over his limp, anyway," answered the other.

"Field's clear now, Elmer, ain't it?" asked Lil Artha, turning to the patrol leader for further orders.

"Yes, and the sooner you're off again the better, Lil Artha," replied Elmer. "You see, that Felix has been coming along all this while, and perhaps he may be nearer than we think. How is it with you now; ready to put in your best licks on the home stretch?"

"I'm just feeling as fresh as a daisy, Elmer," replied the other. "This little business seems to have given me a new appetite. You watch me just eat up the miles. Nine of 'em, do you say? Shucks, I'll be in Little Falls before two hours!"

"Bully for Lil Artha!" exclaimed Nat, clapping his hands.

"Well, we'll put it out of the power of these fellows to pursue you any farther, by taking their spark plug along. Ten to one they haven't got an extra plug with them. And, Toby, Nat, we mustn't forget that we've got machines a ways back here."

"That's right, Elmer. Do we get a move on us, and go for 'em now?" asked Nat.

Lil Artha had already waved his hand at them, and started off along the road at a stiff pace, which seemed to emphasize the truth of what he had just said about feeling as "fresh as a daisy."

"That's just what we're going to do," replied the other; "so come along boys."

"Gee! I hope we happen to run foul of one of them fellers again," laughed Nat.

"Don't be a hog, Nat," admonished Toby. "You had ought to remember that now you belong to the scouts you've got to be merciful."

"Ain't I?" protested the pugnacious one. "Didn't I just kick that feller with the singed eyebrow, when I might have punched his head? Guess I know my duty, Toby Jones!"

CHAPTER XV.

VICTORY – SISS! BOOM! HURRAH!

Elmer was as good as his word. He knew how to cripple the car, and in almost no time he had secured the vital plug without which the machine was valueless for following after Lil Artha, and making him any more trouble.

Then he and his two chums hurried back along the road, meaning to look up their motorcycles; and once mounted upon these they could speedily overtake Lil Artha; to form a guard of honor about him while he covered the last few miles of his long and adventurous hike, that was to bring new glory to the khaki troop of Hickory Ridge.

Nat ran on ahead. They knew full well that it was not any eagerness to be the first to discover the marked spot near which the machines had been secreted that influenced him to do this, but some other motive, possibly not quite so worthy of commendation.

But even Elmer did not say a word. In the first place he did not think Nat would be successful in overtaking one of the Fairfield schemers; and then again, Elmer was not feeling any too kindly toward fellows who could try to put through such a mean plot for defeating the ambitions of the leader in the great hike.

"Hold on, there; come back, Nat!" called Toby, presently. "You've gone and overrun the place. It's lucky Elmer here took note of this big oak tree; or a pretty time we'd have finding our wheels again."

Nat did return, but with a bad grace. He was mumbling something about "hard lines when everything goes against a fellow," and all that sort of stuff; but no one appeared to pay any attention to his complaint.

They quickly found the three motorcycles, just as they had left them; and again Toby started out to lead the way, only to make a mess of it.

"What's wrong this time, Elmer?" he asked, when the patrol leader gave him to understand that they would be a long time getting out of the woods if they kept on the route he, Toby, had started to follow. "I made sure to notice that the wind was on the same side as when you led us out before."

"Yes, but since then the wind's taken a sudden shift. You should have paid attention to that just when we left the road," remarked the other. "A woodsman never goes by what it was a while ago. He knows changes are liable to come around most any old time; and that's what happened here. Wind whipped around about ten degrees, and is heading from the southwest quarter now. That may mean rain before long, boys."

"Let her come if she wants," declared Toby, who was something of a philosopher at times. "Can't do any more than soak us through, and at this time of year that's nothing. I've fallen into a pond more times than I've got fingers on both hands. They just can't drown me, and that goes, boys."

"So long as Lil Artha comes in well to the front, and the Hickory Ridge scouts win the big hike, what do we care?" Nat spoke up. "Besides, we've had a little mite of fun, you know, fellows."

"Fun for the boys, but how about the frogs?" laughed Elmer, as he pushed his machine through the low brush, heading for the road again.

"Let the bullfrogs look out for themselves, that's all," declared Nat. "Any silly gump who will duck his head about, when a feller's holdin' a lighted match close to his nose, just ought to get burnt. Say, think of that guy minus one of his eyebrows; and he's got big ones too, at that! Won't he be the sight, though!"

So, joking and laughing, they pushed on. Presently the road being reached, they proceeded to get a start. Fortunately the incline was downhill, if anything, which promised to make it easier for a mount. Had the opposite been the case one or more of the boys might have had some difficulty in getting started.

Elmer was away first, with a merry splutter of explosive sounds; but he quickly shut off most of his power in order to wait for the others. Toby came along after two efforts at mounting; but Nat seemed to be having one of his old troubles. This time, however, the fault apparently lay in Nat, and not in his motor, for they could hear the racket the engine kept up.

"Here he comes like a skyrocket!" announced Toby, as the character of the sounds from the rear changed; and sure enough they quickly heard Nat whooping it up.

"Clear the track, there! Get out of the road everybody, and give me room. Hi! My old ice wagon's taken the bitt in her mouth; she's running away with me, Elmer! Look out there!"

Luckily Elmer had insisted that each of them light the acetylene gas lamps belonging to their motorcycles before attempting to make a start. Hence they were able to see Nat bearing down upon them with a rush, and get to one side of the road in a hurry.

He went whizzing past amid a rattle and confusion, for, as usual, Nat had paid no attention to his muffler.

"Somebody head me off!" came floating back, as the runaway machine went whirling along the road leading to Little Falls.

"Good gracious! What can we do?" gasped Toby.

"You stick by Lil Artha!"

Even as he shouted these words Elmer was giving his machine its head, and quickly he vanished from the view of the other around a bend.

It was no easy task that now presented itself to the young patrol leader. Had it been a runaway horse there might have been some hope of the rider controlling it; but with a motorcycle that took what seemed to be a fiendish pleasure in doing just the things its owner did not want done, the case was a different matter.

Something had become jammed, so that poor Nat, having opened his engine up wide on starting, was unable to shut off power. And there he was, rushing along at a reckless speed, headed for Little Falls by the most direct route.

Somebody shouted out something as Elmer sped along. He guessed it must be Lil Artha, who had discreetly sought the side of the road upon seeing that fierce light bearing down upon him. But Elmer could not find time to reply. Besides, there was Toby, who would be along presently, and in a condition to tell the tall scout just what was taking place.

Elmer was keeping a bright lookout ahead. He knew that, given a fair field, he could easily overtake the runaway motorcycle; but this thing of rushing along in the darkness was no child's play. At any second he might bang into some obstacle that would give him a nasty tumble.

Besides, he had to keep watch over the leading machine, so that he might not run into Nat; which would be the worst sort of calamity that could happen to them both.

At least he was gaining fast now; he could tell that by the glow from the other lamp which lighted up the road ahead.

Presently he found himself within speaking distance. He could just barely see Nat humped there in his saddle, giving his entire attention to keeping his runaway machine in the road.

"Hello, Nat ahoy!" he called aloud, so that the sound of his voice might reach the other above the clattering of his "cantankerous" motor, as Nat himself was fond of calling his engine, which was now on such a wild plunge.

"Hey, that you, Elmer?" came back to him; and the patrol leader imagined there was a trace of alarm as well as vexation in the voice.

"Yes, can't you keep over on the left side of the road? I want to come closer to you so we can talk," Elmer called.

"All right. Half is good enough for me; so come right along, Elmer."

In another minute they were nearly abreast, each striving to keep to his side of the thoroughfare as best he could.