The Auto Boys' Vacation Part 13

Where they were now much of the timber appeared to be second growth, and such hemlocks as they saw were small.

In a shaded spot to the right of the ill-kept highway they stopped at a small rivulet for the noonday lunch. This was eaten rather silently. In fact, so gloomy were their surroundings that after eating Phil Way proposed that they should divide themselves, two in each party, and explore to the north and south of the highway for a mile or so, making a detour into the forest as they went.

"I'm with you," said Paul briskly. "I'm getting tired of all this guessing. Let's start from here, Phil, and take a half circle northwest, then west, then south, crossing the highway. After another mile, we'll turn east, then northeast, then north until we strike the road again.

Dave, you and Billy do the same thing, only turn northeast, east, then south and so on so as to bring you back to the road not far from where we all are now."

But before any comment could be made on this plan there came a sudden interruption.

CHAPTER XII

NAN AND THE JERSEY BULL

There came a soft clatter of feet on the shaded greensward, and into view came the flying form of a girl, barefooted, sunbonneted, with a cheap calico gown showing a pair of graceful ankles, her touzled but abundant hair hardly half held by the pins. A second glance a.s.sured the boys that they knew that reddish coiffure, though now in disarray, and that supple form. It was undoubtedly the girl of the hay wagon, her finery laid away, and now chastely clad in the dangerously skimpy home attire, wherever that still mysterious home of hers might be.

Seeing the boys, their car, and the remains of the noonday meal, she paused, hesitated, then burst forward, exclaiming:

"Oh, oh! It's you, is it?" She gave a frightened glance behind her, and at the same time the boys thought they detected a low but growing rumble indicative of a coming bellow. "I'm so glad--ah-h! Listen at him!"

"What is it, Miss Nan?" queried Phil, at once alert.

"It's Dad's Jersey bull," she said. "He's got loose somehow."

Just then the rumble rose into an unmistakable bellow, and a yellowish, bovine form hove into sight from the timber, halted and stared wildly about. First he saw the boys and the barefooted girl. Then, las.h.i.+ng his tail, he came on at a galloping run, uttering angry snorts at every step.

Realizing before the others that here might be actual danger, Phil again rose to the emergency. He pulled out a flaming scarlet bandana handkerchief, which Paul had more than once made fun of, and which Phil seldom was caught using. Happening to have it with him now, Phil pointed at the Big Six standing near, bright colored and easily attractive to a mad bull.

He darted toward the oncoming Jersey, crying:

"All of you get in the car--quick! I'll draw the bull! When he takes after me start her up! Then I'll take a chance and jump in, if you'll swing round near me. Hump yourselves!"

Dave at once saw what Phil was up to. He wanted to save the car from the bull's attack, for the animal was in a mood to attack anything bright enough, gay enough. Before Phil had finished, Dave sprang into the driver's seat, while Paul and Billy, both a.s.sisting the girl, jumped into the tonneau. Dave released the clutch and off they went, the bull missing the rear end by hardly a yard.

Daunted by the fierce snorts emitted by the car the bull halted, roaring. Then his eye caught the flare of a brilliant red something that Phil was waving to and fro under his inflamed nostrils. The sight of scarlet always went to his bullish head, and now made him more mad. With another louder roar his bulls.h.i.+p turned furiously on this new tormentor.

For several moments it was nip and tuck between the Jersey and his foe, who always was just behind that flaring expanse of scarlet. Only a brief spell of such hairbreadth maneuvering was sufficient to produce shortness of breath on Phil's part, at least.

Would that car never wheel in his direction? Fearing exhaustion, but flirting the bandana behind him, Phil made straight for the shady copse under which they had dined. Then he vanished so quickly that Mr. Bull, scenting mystery, halted and lashed his flanks with his tail. Dave saw the trick Phil was playing. His car veered round the other side of the copse, whirling up to within ten feet of where Phil stood panting, while the Jersey plunged round the far side. Paul flung open the door of the tonneau.

"In with you, Phil! Lively now!" came the command.

Phil made the first leap, then the second. His face was red with exertion, his legs wabbly under the strain they had been under, and at the third and final plunge they threatened to give way under him. With a half cry, half scream, Nan pushed herself through the door Paul was holding wide open, as the car veered close under Dave's dexterous hand.

"Ketch my hand, mister!" she cried and managed to clutch Phil's fingers in a grip surprisingly strong for a girl. With his free hand Paul clutched Phil's other hand and the two managed to half drag, half pull Phil inside, where he fell panting to the floor of the tonneau.

Meantime Dave, far from idle, saw that Phil was making the connection.

He also saw that Mr. Bull was dangerously near making another kind of connection with the near wheel's guard with one of those sharp pointed horns.

"Here we go!" he shouted, and the Big Six made a powerful spring forward, beyond the reach of this four-footed terror that bawled, glared and snorted in a now vain pursuit.

Both Paul and Nan helped Phil up and, with a gasp or two he sank back on the seat, still flouris.h.i.+ng the kerchief.

"Well, what d'you think of that!" cried Paul, after a.s.suring himself that Phil was all right. "Did you ever see a madder bull?"

Meanwhile Dave, taking to the road again, soon placed distance and some timber growth between themselves in the Big Six and the bull.

"Well, Miss Nan," said Phil, who had recovered, "that was what you were scared at and I don't wonder. Does he often do that way?"

"Not often." The girl was trying to hide her feet, somehow feeling that she was now where clothes a.s.sume greater importance than they do at home on the farm. "I was out after blueberries. Sam--that's what we call him--had got out of the pasture, and when he saw me I think a bee or something had stung him. Anyway, he blamed it on me. He took after me full tilt and I had to run. I don't know what I'd done but for you all."

"I'm sure we were glad to be where we could help," encouraged Phil, "though I feel sure I don't long for another such narrow escape. I must thank you, too, Miss Nan, for helping Paul drag me aboard, for I was about all in."

"Don't you worry, Nan," broke in Paul, who had been taking in the girl's embarra.s.sment. "I lived on a farm when I was smaller, and we didn't bother much about how we dressed. I'm sure you look well, no matter what clothes you wear."

Nan blushed while Paul, feeling that he had done well, turned to Dave.

"Where you going now, Mac?"

"Just jogging along. But perhaps we better stop and find out what we're going to do next. What you think, Phil?"

"Oh, there's my berry pail!" said the girl, pointing at an overturned tin bucket near the roadside. "If you will let me out I'll be going on."

"Do you live near? But of course you do, or you wouldn't have run across your bull. Could we take you home?" This from Phil.

"I--I wouldn't mind," she rather hesitatingly said. "But I must get the pail." And out she jumped, running to the overturned bucket, scooping up most of the berries that had been spilled, then hurrying back, saying as she got in:

"I wouldn't bother you but there's an old tumble-down house that folks say has a ghost or something near here. It used to be a tavern 'way back years ago. Somehow I always dread to go near it alone, and I always go round it when I'm out after blueberries, but this road goes right near it."

"Why, I don't see any sign of a house round here," remarked Dave. "I've stuck to this old road because I supposed it would lead somewhere."

"I know," she returned. "The woods, so plentiful about here, are thicker'n ever where the ruins be. We're about two miles from my house.

It's more open there; fields and so on. Sam must 'a' strayed a good bit."

"We'll take you home, Nan," quoth Paul, and Billy nodded in a.s.sent. "But maybe you could tell us more about that house. When we get close, you know."

Here Phil gave both the other boys a warning look as he inquired if they must turn round in order to go where her home lay. Nan nodded, pointing eastward as she replied:

"Just follow the road the way I'm pointing now. I'll tell you when we get nearest to that old place. It's about two miles to our house from there."

Congratulating himself that they were so easily put in the way of finding what they had come so far to see, Phil pa.s.sed the signal round for the others to keep still and let him do the talking.

By this time Nan was much more at her ease with the boys. She told them of the extent of the woods and how she lived on a small farm at one edge of the great second-growth timber which was the predominating feature of this half swampy section. Moreover Phil, too, noted that here and there were larger hemlock trees, though none of very great size or ancient appearance.

"Has anyone seen the ghost lately?" queried Phil. "Is it a real ghost, or merely the echo of tales that have been current around here for years?"

"I'm sure I don't know," said Nan. "Once, not long ago, father and I were riding by after dark. I'm sure I saw a kind of brightness in the thick woods where we knew that old tavern was. It was brighter, yet somehow pale; made me think of ghosts right away."