Bert Wilson's Fadeaway Ball Part 14

"What's that?" Tom demanded, sharply, as a cry of terror rent the air.

"Let's find out."

"It sounded further down the stream, near the mill. Come on, fellows.

Hurry!" and Bert instinctively took command, as he always did in cases of emergency.

As the boys burst through the bushes further down, the cry came again, a wild call for help, and they saw a white clad figure struggling desperately against the force of the current.

With a shout of encouragement Bert plunged into the water, and with long, powerful strokes was nearing the spot where the girl had disappeared.

Once more the figure rose to the surface, but Bert knew it was for the last time. The girl was terribly close to the sluice, and as Bert swam he felt the tug of the current.

Just as the girl was about to go under, Bert caught her dress and pulled her to the surface. But how, how, could he swim with his burden against the current to the bank, which seemed to him a hundred miles off!

With resolute courage he mustered his strength and began the struggle with that merciless current. One stroke, two, three,--surely he was gaining, and a great wave of joy and hope welled up in his heart. He _must_ make it, for not only was his life at stake, but the life of the young girl dependent upon his success. But it became harder and harder to make headway, and finally he realized that he was barely holding his own--that he had to exert all his remaining strength to prevent them both from being drawn through the sluice to a cruel death below.

Desperately he strove to push against that mighty wall of water, that, like some merciless giant, was forcing him and his helpless burden, inch by inch, to destruction. In the agony of his soul a great cry of despair broke from his lips. "It will all be over soon," he muttered. "I wouldn't care so much for myself, but the girl," and he looked down at the pale face and dark, tangled hair of the girl he was giving his life to save. They were very, very close to the entrance of the sluice now, and nearing it more swiftly every moment. But what was that black object coming toward them so rapidly?

"Bert, Bert, keep up your courage. I'm coming!" cried d.i.c.k's voice.

"I'll be with you in a minute. Just a minute, old fellow."

Oh, could d.i.c.k reach them in time. Bert could only pray for strength to hold on for a few minutes. He was very near them now, and shouting encouragement at every stroke. Now he was beside them, and had taken the girl from Bert's nerveless grasp. "Here, take this rope, old fellow," he cried, "put it over your head, quick. That's the way. Now let the fellows on sh.o.r.e pull you in."

Bert wondered afterward why he had not felt any great exultation at his sudden and almost miraculous deliverance. As it was, only a great feeling of weariness settled down upon him, and he wanted to sleep--sleep. Then the sky came down to meet the earth, and everything went black before his eyes.

"Bert, dear old Bert, wake up. You're safe. You're safe. Don't you hear me, old fellow?" a voice at a great distance was saying, and Bert opened uncomprehending eyes on a strange world.

"h.e.l.lo, fellows," he said, with the ghost of his old smile. "Came pretty near to 'shuffling off this mortal coil,' didn't I? Where is----" he asked, looking around, inquiringly.

"The girl you so bravely rescued?" came a sweet voice behind him. "And who never, never can repay you for what you have done to-day if she lives forever?"

With the a.s.sistance of his friends Bert got to his feet and faced the girl who had so nearly gone to her death with him. For the first time in his life he felt embarra.s.sed.

"Please don't thank me," he said; "I'm repaid a thousandfold when I see you standing there safe. It might so easily have been the other way,"

and he shuddered at the thought.

Before the girl could answer, another figure strode forth and grasped our hero's hand in both of his.

"Professor Davis," Bert exclaimed, as he recognized one of the college professors.

"Yes, it's Mr. Davis, Bert, and he owes you a debt of grat.i.tude he can never cancel. Bert, it was my daughter you rescued from a hideous death to-day, and, dear boy, from this day, you can count on me for anything in the world."

"Thank you, Professor; I don't deserve all this----"

"Yes, you do, my boy--every bit of it and more, and now," he added, seeing that the strain was telling on Bert, "I think you, d.i.c.k, and Tom had better get Bert home as quickly as you can. This daughter of mine insisted on staying until you revived, but I guess she will excuse you, now. I'd ask you to take supper with us to-night, but I know that what you most need is rest. It is only a pleasure deferred, however."

As they turned to go, the girl held out her hands to Tom and d.i.c.k, and lastly to Bert. "I am very, very grateful," she said, softly.

"And I am very, very grateful that I have been given a chance to serve you," he answered, and watched her disappear with her father through the bushes.

Then he turned to d.i.c.k and Tom. "You fellows deserve more credit than I, a thousand times more," he said, in a voice that was a trifle husky.

"Huh," said Tom, "all that I did was to run to the nearest house for a rope, and all d.i.c.k did was to hand you the rope, while Professor Davis and I hauled you in."

"Yes, that's all," Bert repeated, softly, "that's all."

"Well, come on, Bert, it's time you got back to college. I guess you're about all in," said d.i.c.k, putting his arm through Bert's and starting off in the direction of the college.

"Say, you forgot something," Tom said, suddenly. "You forgot all about old Pete."

"So we did," d.i.c.k exclaimed; "suppose you go and get the fish and poles, if they are still there, and join us at the crossing."

And they did meet at the crossing, and jogged along home, their bodies tired, but their hearts at rest, while their friends.h.i.+p was welded still more strongly by one other experience, shared in common.

CHAPTER X

A WILD RIDE

It was a rather gloomy morning on which the team started for the college where they were to play one of the most important games of the series.

If they won, they would eliminate the Grays and have only to contend with the Maroons; if they lost, all their splendid work of the season might have gone for nought.

They were a sober bunch, therefore, as they gathered at the railway station to await their train. There was little of the usual joking and horse play to be seen, but this may have been partly due to the depressing state of the weather. As the train came in sight, however, they chirked up somewhat at the thought of having something to occupy their minds, and piled aboard their special car in a little more cheerful mood. A dense, clammy fog hung low over the ground, and it was impossible to see more than a hundred feet or so into it in any direction.

The town in which they were to play to-day was almost a hundred miles distant, and so they had a considerable journey ahead of them. The train was a little behind time, and was making extra speed in an effort to catch up with its schedule. They had traversed several miles, and were relieving the monotony of the journey with jokes and riddles. As they pa.s.sed over a particularly high trestle, and looked down into the dizzy void below, Sterling, the second baseman, said:

"Say, fellows, this trestle reminds me of a story I heard a little while ago. If somebody would beg me to real hard, I might be induced to tell it to you."

"Go ahead!" "Shoot!" "Let's hear it!" came a chorus of supplication, and Sterling said, "Well, if you insist, I suppose I will have to tell it to you. The scene of this thrilling anecdote is laid in the Far West, when it was much wilder and woollier than it is at present. It seems that two horse thieves had been captured by a band of 'vigilantes,' and after a trial notable for its brevity and lack of hampering formalities, they were both sentenced to be hanged. It was in a country in which there were no trees worthy of the name, and the only available place for the execution within several miles was a high railroad bridge. To this, accordingly, the 'vigilantes' conducted their prisoners, one of whom was a Swede and the other of Irish persuasion. The two were forced to draw lots to see which one should be hanged first, and, as it turned out, the Swede drew the short straw, and so was p.r.o.nounced the first victim of justice.

"The noose of a stout lariat was fastened around his neck, and when everything was ready he was shoved off the bridge. As the strain of his weight came on the rope, however, the knot of the noose became untied, and the Swede fell to the rus.h.i.+ng river below. He was not hurt much, and those on the bridge saw him swim to the bank and scramble ash.o.r.e. There was no way of getting at him, so the lynchers had to satisfy themselves with many and varied oaths. The Irishman, of course, had watched the proceeding in a fascinated manner, and as the cowboys tied the rope around his neck, he said, in an imploring voice, 'For Hivin's sake, byes, tie the rope tight this time, for I can't swim a stroke.'"

Hearty laughter greeted Sterling's narrative, and the boys felt in better spirits after it.

"That reminds me of a story I heard once," began Hinsdale. "It was when I was on a visit to my uncle's ranch in Montana, and----"

But he was interrupted by a crash that sounded as though the end of the world had come, and the car in which they were riding reared up in the air like a bucking horse. It rose almost to a perpendicular position, and then crashed over on its side. It sc.r.a.ped along a few rods in this position, and then came to a grinding halt.

For a few seconds there was silence, and then a pandemonium of m.u.f.fled screams and cries broke forth. Bert's voice was the first to be heard in their car, and it inquired, anxiously, "Where are you, d.i.c.k, Tom, and the rest of you? Are you alive yet? Here, you, get off my neck, will you, and give me a chance to breathe."

There was a general scramble and struggle among the debris, and soon one boy after another climbed and crawled through the broken windows until finally they all stood accounted for. Many had painful scratches and bruises, but none were hurt at all seriously. Reddy, the trainer, drew a sigh of relief. "Thank Heaven for its mercies," said he, fervently, and then, "Well, me lads, get a wiggle on, and we'll see if everybody else has been as lucky as we have. From the looks of things up forward there, it's more than I dare hope."

The front part of the train, which had sustained the greatest shock of the collision, was indeed a terrible spectacle. Running full speed, the two trains had crashed into each other out of the fog before their engineers had fairly realized that anything was amiss. The locomotives were practically demolished, and one huge Mogul lay on its side beside the roadbed, steam still hissing from its broken pipes. The other engine still was on the rails, but its entire front had been demolished, and it was a total wreck. The coaches immediately back of the locomotives had been driven on by the momentum of the cars back of them, and had been partly telescoped; that is, the cars in the rear had plowed half way through before their progress was checked. To add to the horror of the scene, thin red flames were licking up from the wreckage, probably started by the coals from the engine. Many of the pa.s.sengers were unable to extricate themselves from the wreckage, being pinned down by beams and other heavy articles. Their cries and supplications to be saved were pitiful as they saw the hungry flames gathering headway and eating their way toward them, and Reddy turned fiercely to the horror-stricken boys.

"Here, what are ye standing around for?" he snarled. "Git back to our car and get out the axes and fire extinguishers there. You can get at them if you try. Come on; hurry!" and the trainer sprinted back toward the rear cars, followed in a body by the willing and eager boys. In less time than it takes to tell it, they returned, some with axes and some with extinguishers. The latter could make little progress against the flames, however, which by now had gained considerable headway, so the boys, a.s.sisted by such other of the pa.s.sengers who were in a position to do so, proceeded to chop and dig their way to the imprisoned unfortunates.

Person after person they dragged out in this manner, until they had rescued all but one man.