Bert Wilson at the Wheel Part 10

From this it may be seen that there was more than a little hero wors.h.i.+p mingled with Tom's love for Bert, and no wonder. Bert was the sort of fellow that everyone had to admire and like.

By this time the boys had begun to return with their bundles and boxes, and soon everything was safely stored in the tonneau, and the boys had time to wonder how they were going to get themselves in too, as the supplies seemed to take up about all the room.

Finally it was arranged that Jim and Dave should stay in the tonneau to see that nothing was shaken overboard, while Bob and Frank ranged themselves on the running board.

In this fas.h.i.+on they started, but it soon became evident to everybody that they would never be able to get back to camp before the storm broke, even with the help of the "Red Scout."

Thunder could be heard coming nearer and nearer, and soon they felt the first warm drops of rain. Bert wished then that they had a top to their car, but unfortunately the leather covering ordered by Mr. Hollis had not yet arrived at the camp.

"What do you think we'd better do, Bert; make a run for camp or hunt shelter around here?" asked Tom.

"Why, this road is pretty rough, and we can't make much speed," replied Bert. "I guess we'd better hunt cover right away," as a vivid streak of lightning split the sky, followed by a crash of thunder.

"We noticed an old barn over toward the right when we were on a botany expedition the other day," said Frank, "and I think that if you swing into that dirt road we're coming to, it will lead us right to it."

"Well, here goes," said Bert, and swung the "Red Scout" into the old road. Sure enough, before they had gone a quarter of a mile they sighted the old barn, and were soon snugly established in it. To be sure, the roof leaked in places, but it was fairly tight, and what did a bunch of hardy campers, in the pink of condition, care for a few drops of rain?

There was some hay left in the barn, and they lounged comfortably around on this, talking and listening to the rain, which by this time had increased to a downpour, and beat fiercely on the roof and sides of the old barn.

The boys started a discussion about the hill-climbing feat of the "Red Scout," and while all agreed that it had been a splendid performance, Bob seemed to be inclined to sneer at Bert's handling of the car. He firmly believed that he knew more about automobiles than Bert, and was sometimes a little jealous of the praise given him by the other boys.

"Oh, I don't know," he finally remarked, when Tom remarked that some people seemed able to coax more out of a car than others, "I don't see that that makes much difference. I'll bet that if I had been running the 'Red Scout' this morning it would have gone up that hill just the same.

Why, when I used to run my uncle's car----" but here he was interrupted by cries of derision, and Tom remarked:

"I suppose that if Bob had been running the 'Red Scout' he would have run it up the hill backwards so that it would think it was going downhill, and so got to the top without any trouble."

This sally caused a general laugh at Bob's expense and he subsided, but was heard to mutter about "getting the right mixture," and "easing her down to second speed," which n.o.body but Bert understood, but which seemed to make him feel much better.

In justice to Bob, it must be said, however, that he did know quite a little about automobiles, but usually lacked nerve when it came to putting his knowledge into practice.

By this time the boys were all hungry, and as there seemed to be a small chance of the rain letting up for a while, Bert proposed that they have lunch. There was plenty of food in the automobile, and Bert started the boys to fis.h.i.+ng out crackers and jam.

Suddenly a thought struck him. "Say, fellows," he called, "how about making some cornbread and having a real bang-up meal? We've got bacon and all the fixings here, and we all know how to cook, thanks to our experience as campers. I'll make the corn bread, and Tom here will fry the bacon."

There was such a joyous and noisy consent to this plan that Bert could not help laughing. "All right," he cried, "some of you fellows dive into the car and bring out the new frying pan and the Dutch oven we bought to-day. We'll build a fire on that slab of stone over there, and have something to eat in next to no time."

This was no sooner said than done, and as the odor of frying bacon and hot "corn pone" filled the old barn, the boys thanked their lucky stars for the thousandth time that they had come on this camping trip.

In a short time everything was ready, and they seated themselves near the fire. Tom dished out the sizzling bacon and steaming "corn pone."

Under the cheering influence of this feast even Bob Ward forgot his grudge of the morning, and when he shouted, "What's the matter with Wilson?" the resulting "He's all right!" almost lifted the roof off the old barn.

Soon they had finished and cleared away the meal, and when they opened the barn door were surprised and delighted to find that the sun had struggled through the clouds and was now s.h.i.+ning brightly. Quickly they packed the tonneau, and were soon ready to start.

"All right, fellows, get to your places," sang out Bert, and soon they were chugging out of the old barn that had offered them such timely shelter.

Once outside and fairly on the disused road, however, it soon became apparent that only with great difficulty could they make any progress at all. The rain had converted the road into a quagmire, and although Bert brought the "Red Scout" from third speed to second, and finally to first, he saw that they must soon stop altogether, and indeed this soon proved to be the case.

The faithful motor apparently had plenty of power, but the car sank into the mud up to its axles, and the rear wheels simply turned around without propelling it. Bert finally threw out the clutch and the "Red Scout" stopped as though he had applied the brakes, so great was the opposition formed by the mud.

"Well, this is a pretty fix, to be sure," exclaimed Bert. "We're going to have the time of our lives getting this machine out. What you need for this road is not so much an automobile as a boat. However, it wouldn't speak well for us if we couldn't get our car out of this sc.r.a.pe after all it has done for us, so let's get busy."

"That's all very well," said Jim, "but the question is, how are you going to do it? This isn't exactly a flying machine, although it can go pretty fast, and it seems to me that we will need something like that to get us out of here."

"Say, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, Jim Dawson," exclaimed Tom, indignantly, "here you call yourself one of the crowd, and yet you are willing to give up before you have fairly begun to try. That isn't the right spirit."

"Oh, it's easy enough to talk," answered Jim, sulkily, "but I'd just like to know how you are going to do it, that's all."

"Well, I can't say I have a plan right now, but I'm sure that our old 'Red Scout' isn't going to leave us in the lurch now after all it has done so far," and here he patted the vibrating car lovingly.

Meanwhile Bert had been thinking deeply, and had finally hit on a plan.

"Here, some of you fellows, run back and bring me all the hay you can carry from that barn, will you? We want to get out of here as soon as we can, because Mr. Hollis will be anxious about us. Lively's the word."

Tom, Bob, and Frank ran back to the barn and soon reappeared, carrying armfuls of hay. When they reached the car Bert took charge of it, and placed it carefully under the rear wheels, and made a path in front of each wheel for about six feet.

"If we can only get over to the side of the road and up on that gra.s.s there," he explained, "we will be on firmer ground and can get better traction. I only wish we had tire chains."

"What are tire chains, Bert, and what are they for?" inquired Frank.

"Why, you see how it is," replied Bert, "we have plenty of power, but the wheels can't get a grip on the ground, and just skid around. If we had a network of chains over the tires they would bite through the mud to solid ground and get the grip we need. Understand?"

"Sure thing, and much obliged for the explanation," said Frank, heartily.

By this time Bert had arranged things to his satisfaction, and now climbed into the driver's seat, while the boys looked on expectantly.

Bert threw out the clutch, advanced the spark slightly, and opened the throttle a few notches. Immediately the motor increased its revolutions, and when it had reached a good speed Bert gently eased in the clutch. There was a grinding sound of clutch and gears as the power was transmitted to the rear wheels, and the "Red Scout" lunged forward.

The front wheels were so firmly embedded by this time, however, that even the "Red Scout" was helpless. Again and again Bert raced his engine and let in the clutch, and each time the machine made a gallant attempt to free itself, but could never quite make it. Finally he reversed, but with no better result. At last he gave up the attempt, and leaving the motor turning over slowly, descended to hold a consultation with the other boys.

"Have you any suggestions to make, fellows?" he asked, "I confess I'm up a tree just at present. What do you say, Bob? Can you think of anything?"

"Why, I was thinking," answered Bob, flattered by this direct appeal to his vaunted experience, "that if we could dig out a path in front of the machine up onto the gra.s.s we might get it out that way."

"Say! you've hit the nail on the head this time!" exclaimed Bert, enthusiastically. "That's just what we'll do. Get that spade out of the tonneau, will you Frank, and we'll get to work."

Frank immediately complied, and in an incredibly short s.p.a.ce of time the boys had a path dug in front of the auto down to hard gravel, and were ready for another attempt to extricate their beloved car.

Bert climbed into his seat with a do-or-die expression on his handsome young face, and repeated his former tactics, but this time with greater success. The "Red Scout" surged forward with a roar, like some imprisoned wild creature suddenly given its liberty. Bert took no chances this time, but plugged steadily onward until he reached high, firm ground. Here he stopped the panting machine, and waited for the cheering boys to catch up.

They soon reached the faithful car, and quickly jumped into their places. Before starting again Bert turned around and said, "Fellows, I think we owe Bob a vote of thanks. All who agree please say 'Aye'."

There was a hearty chorus of "Ayes," and Bob flushed with pleasure at this tribute from his comrades. He thought, and with reason, that he had demonstrated his knowledge of automobiles to good advantage, as well as his ability to meet emergencies.

By this time it was getting near dusk, and Bert knew that Mr. Hollis would be worried over their continued absence. Accordingly, when he got on to the main road, he threw the gears into high speed, and soon they were bowling along at a rapid, but safe, pace toward their camp.

It would be hard to imagine a happier set of boys in the world than those who sat in the big red automobile in the silence of good fellows.h.i.+p and listened to the contented purring of the "Red Scout's" powerful motor.

As they revolved in their minds the exciting occurrences of the day, and thought of other equally happy days yet to come, it seemed to them that there was indeed nothing more desirable in life than to be campers with such leaders as Mr. Hollis, Bert Wilson, and d.i.c.k Trent. It is safe to say that they would not have changed places with any other set of boys on earth.