Dave Porter At Bear Camp: or, The Wild Man of Mirror Lake

"I don't want to see him. I've got troubles enough without running into Link Merwell," grumbled Nat; and then his train came in and he was off.

During their spare time the boys had studied an automobile road-map of New York State, and especially of the Adirondack Mountains. They had figured out that they would have good traveling nearly the whole of the distance, although there were a few bad stretches here and there to be covered, and also a number of mountains to be climbed.

"But the mountains won't bother us," said Dave, in reply to a question from Luke. "Our car can go up almost any hill, and the Basswood auto is just about as good. Of course we'll have to do some of the traveling on low or second gear."

"The reason I asked was this," returned Luke. "A couple of years ago some friends of mine started to tour the Adirondacks in a runabout. They went up the side of one mountain, and then down on the other. They then found themselves in a valley, and couldn't climb the grade on either side. They tried for two days to get out, and then had to get a team of horses to pull them a distance of several miles."

"We'll watch out that nothing like that happens to us," answered Dave. "We won't go down into any hollow until we know something about how we are going to get out of it."

As both touring-cars were large, it had been decided that Mr. and Mrs. Basswood, as well as Dunston Porter, should accompany the young folks on the automobile trip. As all the baggage had been packed and either shipped forward by express or strapped on the touring-cars, it did not take long on Monday morning to get ready to start. It was a clear and fairly cool day, and a slight shower Sunday night had laid the dust.

"All aboard that's going!" cried Dave, gaily, when the Wadsworth car had been run around to the front of the mansion.

He had hardly uttered the words when there came the sound of an automobile horn from the road, and a few seconds later the Basswood car came into sight with Ben's crowd on board.

"You'll say good-bye to us here, but we'll be at Mirror Lake before you get there," said Mrs. Wadsworth, as she kissed her daughter and the other girls.

"Now look out for accidents!" cautioned Dave's father.

"We'll be careful," answered Dunston Porter, with a smile. And then he added to Caspar Potts: "Professor, don't forget to take good care of the place while we are away."

"It shall be well taken care of, rest assured of that, sir," was the old gentleman's reply. "I trust all of you enjoy the outing," he went on, his kindly face beaming.

Dave was at the wheel, with his uncle beside him, and the others packed rather tightly in the tonneau behind. With many a shout and merry word, the Wadsworth touring-car left the grounds, followed by the Basswood machine, and passed out along the highway leading north from Crumville.

"Now Dave, do look where you are running," cautioned Laura. "We don't want any punctures or blow-outs."

Soon Crumville was left behind, and the automobiles were passing along the river road where some time before Dave and his chums had assisted Nat Poole. Then they began to climb the distant hills, and presently were on the highway leading to Poughkeepsie, where they were to cross the Hudson River.

"If only this lovely weather holds out I'm sure we'll have a splendid trip," said Jessie.

"I suppose, Belle, you'd rather be on horseback than in an auto," remarked Phil.

"Well, I won't go back on horseback-riding," returned the western girl, "I love it too dearly. But this is very nice," she added, quickly. "Very nice indeed!"

By noon they reached the city on the Hudson River, and there stopped for lunch. Then they passed over the high bridge spanning the stream and struck out northward once more. Mr. Dunston Porter was now running the car, and this gave Dave more of a chance to talk to those behind him.

That evening found them in Albany, where it had been decided to spend the night. Dunston Porter had already telegraphed ahead for hotel accommodations, so there was no difficulty on that score. The older folks were glad enough to rest during the evening, but the young people went out for a walk up the hill leading to the Capitol building.

In the morning the tourists were rather alarmed to see that the sky had clouded over, and there were some indications of rain.

"Well, if it rains we can put on our raincoats and put up the tops," said Dave. So far they had been traveling with the tops folded down.

Noon found them well up in the heart of New York State. They stopped only for a short while at lunch time, wishing to cover as much ground as possible before the storm might break.

"If possible we want to make Rayville to-day," announced Mr. Basswood, when the two cars had come to a standstill at a crossroads. "I've got some friends living there, and I want to make a call on them. Besides, there's a good hotel there, where we can stop for the night," for they had made no arrangements beyond Albany.

There had been a signboard at the crossroads, but this had fallen down, so the tourists did not know which of the forks of the road to take. Finally a man, coming along in a runabout, told them to take the highway on the left.

"That other road is the regular one," he explained, "but it is pretty well torn up, and you'll make time by taking this one. But be careful of the hill, it's just a little bit dangerous."

"We'll be careful," answered Dave, who was now running the car once more.

"Want me to take the wheel?" questioned his uncle.

"Oh, no, I guess I can get along all right."

The Basswood car, with Ben in charge, had already taken to the highway on the left, and the other turnout followed it at a distance of several hundred feet. Ben had put on considerable speed, and Dave had to watch closely to keep the other car in sight.

"Take it easy, Davy," said his Uncle Dunston. "We don't want any accidents away out here from any garage."

"I want to keep Ben in sight. He's going it pretty lively," answered Dave.

"Yes, it's a wonder his father doesn't hold him back a little. But Mr. Basswood said he was anxious to reach Rayville, and that's at least twenty miles farther."

Ahead were several turns in the road, and at these Dave lost sight of the car ahead. Being cloudy, it was quite dark on the roadway, especially where the trees lined the highway, and soon Dave found it necessary to turn on the headlights. Then he sounded his horn, expecting to get a reply from Ben, but to his surprise none came.

"Do you know what I think he's trying to do?" said our hero, hastily. "I believe he's trying to run away from us."

"It's a foolish thing to attempt, Dave, on a strange road like this," answered Dunston Porter, gravely. "I should think Mr. Basswood would stop it."

Presently they were climbing a long hill. The road wound in and out among the trees, and at one place the grade was so steep that Dave had to throw the clutch into low gear. He and his uncle listened intently, and from a distance heard the chug-chug of the other car a long way ahead.

"Say, this is some climb, believe me!" cried Roger, as they made another turn, and Dave found it advisable to come down to low gear.

"What will you do if you can't make it, Dave?" queried Phil.

"Oh, we'll make it – don't worry," was the answer. "I threw into low gear just for safety's sake. This road twists so a fellow can't see fifty feet ahead of him."

"I don't hear the other car any more," declared Roger, a moment later.

To this Dave did not reply. There was another turn ahead, and a particularly hard climb over some rather rough rocks. Then, with a jolt, the big touring-car came out on the top of the hill. Here was another turn, and then began a sharp descent.

"Stop here a minute, Dave!" ordered the youth's uncle, and then, as our hero brought the machine to a standstill, he added: "That's rather a bad road ahead, and you had better give the other car a chance to get down before we try to make it."

"A good idea, Uncle Dunston. We'll wait," answered Dave.

As they stood there all strained their ears to catch some sound from the other car.

"I don't hear it at all," said Roger.

"All I hear is the breeze in the trees," put in Laura.

"They must be running without power," answered Dunston Porter.

"If they are going down a really steep hill, it's a wonder we don't hear some squeak from the brakes," was Phil's comment.

"Listen!" cried Dave, suddenly, and held up his hand.