CHAPTER II

A BREAKDOWN ON THE ROAD

Hugh and Bud exchanged glances, and then the latter burst into a laugh.

“Blake, bless your heart, of course Hugh will be glad to go along with you over to the big State camp so you can tell Felix what a silly he’s made of himself. You know, scouts are always ready to perform a good deed, and bringing Uncle Reuben and his favorite nephew together again would be just bully. And, say, you’ve got to count me in the deal, ditto, understand?”

“Why, I don’t know just how that might be?” stammered Blake; when energetic Bud broke in upon him with a vigor that would brook no refusal.

“I’ll tell you several reasons for my going along, Blake,” he said, tapping one finger after another. “First off, it happens that Hugh and myself were just saying we only wanted some half-way decent excuse for deserting the other fellows right now, and heading straight for the big camp. Then, secondly, I c’n get a sort of decent old car in which we could make the run, if nothing happened to ditch us on the road. Then, last, but far from least, I want to go! And that settles it.”

“All right, Bud,” agreed the other, carried away by this enthusiasm and desire to serve a comrade in trouble, “what you say goes. That idea about the car is a good one. Hugh, you haven’t told me what you think yet; please help me out of this pickle, won’t you?”

“Oh! just as Bud here remarked,” laughed the patrol leader. “I’m like a hungry fish biting at the first baited hook I see ahead of me. I certainly do want to go over to that mobilization camp the worst way, and the only thing that kept me from starting was the want of a decent excuse. Now that a comrade has called on me to assist him, there’s no further reason for holding back!”

“Bully for you, Hugh!” exclaimed Bud Morgan, beaming happily on his two comrades.

“I just knew I could depend on you to help me tide over this trouble, Hugh,” said Blake, grasping the other’s hand, and squeezing it warmly. “Now that we’ve got all that fixed, let’s make the necessary arrangements as soon as we can; time counts in a game like this; and, besides, I’ve got certain reasons for fearing there may be interruptions.”

He did not choose to enter into any explanation for these rather strange words, seeing which Hugh presently went on to say:

“I’ll get in touch with Alec Sands, the leader of the _Otters_, and tell him that he must take charge of things for some days while I’m away. Alec can see about the hike tomorrow; making camp up there near the Pastor farm; and even starting in at the hay-cutting if we’re not back in time. Fortunately, Alec knows considerable along the line of farm work; and then, too, old Mr. Pastor can coach the boys.”

“But, Hugh, please don’t drop a hint about why you’ve got to go over to the big camp,” pleaded Blake. “You see, it might happen to get to the ears of Uncle Reuben, and offend him. That’s got to be a dead secret between the three of us until I can put a letter from Felix in his guardian’s hand, and know the old gentleman’s really forgiven him for his hasty words.”

“We’ll both shake hands with you on that, Blake,” said Hugh, wishing to make sure that Bud would be willing to take the same vow of secrecy on himself.

When this operation had been completed, Blake appeared to be much relieved.

“How long do you expect it will take you to see Alec, and arrange other things, Hugh?” he asked.

“Oh!” the patrol leader immediately replied, “so far as that goes, I believe an hour ought to cover everything, such as telling my folks at home, and getting Alec to take charge. How about you two?”

“I can do it in far less time,” admitted Blake.

“Same here, unless the old car has to be fixed in some way. Generally the tires aren’t holding any too well,” explained Bud. “But, then, a fellow mustn’t look a gift horse in the mouth; all it’ll cost us is the gas and lubricating oil. We c’n fix that up among us easy enough, eh, boys?”

So it was agreed that they should rendezvous at a certain spot as soon as possible. If Hugh could accomplish his several errands in any shorter time so much the better, he remarked. The three boys hastened away in as many different directions, each one making all possible speed, for their hearts were evidently in the work that now engaged their attention.

So well did luck stand by them, that before three-quarters of an hour had passed by the trio met again at the appointed place. Each carried a small package, and, besides, Bud had driven up in a rather dilapidated looking old car that doubtless had a past history, and now quite out of the running where speed was considered a prime requisite.

Still, as Bud himself had remarked, it was not polite to be too particular of a gift. The car might carry them in safety over the forty miles or more that lay between Oakvale and the mobilization camp; then, again, they might have a few punctures or blowouts, for the tires were certainly in poor condition.

Hugh looked the machine over, and raised his eyebrows expressively; whereat Bud hastened to say:

“Don’t condemn the old rattletrap yet awhile, Hugh. Sometimes things turn out mighty deceptive, you remember. She’s seen heaps of service in her day, for a fact, and been pretty dependable, too, I wager. May be she’ll behave scrumptuously for us on this trip. We’re going on an errand of mercy, and deserve encouragement, for a fact. Jump in, fellows, and we’ll get started.”

So they were soon off. The car groaned and wheezed when power was applied, and Blake looked pretty anxious until finally they began to move along the road out of Oakvale at a fair clip.

“Say, she seems to go pretty decent, after all!” declared the driver, for Bud, likewise Hugh, knew much about the mechanism of cars, and could pilot one as well as any boy around Oakvale. Blake was a novice at such things.

“We must be making as much as ten miles an hour right now!” laughed Hugh.

“Which rate of speed, if continued, would fetch us to the camp in less than five hours, wouldn’t it?” demanded the now sanguine Blake.

“Oh! well, the worst is yet to come!” grinned Bud Morgan. “You see, we’re going on the level now, and there happens to be some pretty tough old hills which have to be surmounted before we reach our haven. Hills can play hob with most old worn-out cars. I’m not boasting any yet, Blake, you notice; hold your horses, and we’ll see what happens.”

For some little time they continued to move along fairly well, and a number of miles were placed behind them. Indeed, they had even managed to climb several good-sized elevations; and, although once it seemed as though the machinery was about to give up with a last groan, clever Bud managed to pull the machine to the top of the rise, so that they could coast down the declivity, which they did in great style.

“She can run like a bird, once you cut the power off, and let her coast,” shrilled the enthusiastic pilot, as they continued to “scoot” along the level below.

“Whee! but look what’s ahead of us?” cried Blake, in an appalled tone.

“Oh! that hill isn’t half as bad as it seems,” Bud told him. “I’m going to take it on the run, and get to the top, all right, watch me!”

He made an heroic effort to accomplish the end he had in view, and, in fact, did manage to negotiate more than three-fourths of the climb. Then suddenly the engine gave up the ghost, and only through a frantic use of the brake did the pilot keep the car from starting backward down the steep incline.

“Well, here we are, held up!” he remarked, calmly; “it’s up to me to get busy and see what’s wrong.”

“I’ll help you to it, Bud,” Hugh told him, stripping off his coat, and donning one of the old linen dusters Bud had thoughtfully fetched along for just this purpose, since he suspected they would find good use for it.

They were a busy bunch for the next hour, the two boys most of the time working under the car and Blake hovering near, growing more and more anxious as the precious minutes slipped past.

“How far have we come, do you reckon, Hugh?” he asked once.

“I should say about seventeen miles,” the other replied, after mental figuring; “though that’s only a guess, because we don’t happen to have any way of telling. This car isn’t equipped with a cyclometer, you know, or any other thing that costs money. I’m surprised that the tires have held out so well.”

“That isn’t much more than one-third of the way to camp, either,” declared Blake, disconsolately. “I’m wondering what I could do in case, after all your work, you fail to coax the poor old engine into going again. It’ll be too bad if we get to the camp too late to carry that letter back to Uncle Reuben in time; for he is a terrible man to keep his word, and he’ll make that new will tomorrow night as sure as anything, unless he hears from Felix by sundown.”

“Well, if it comes to the worst,” Hugh told him, soothingly, “you could wire Uncle Reuben to hold up, and that a letter was on the way with an ample apology. I suppose you don’t have any doubt about Felix giving you such a letter, Blake?”

“No, I don’t, Hugh. Not that he cares so much about the old gentleman’s money, because, you see, he has some of his own coming to him in another year or so; but Felix is a good-hearted fellow, and really cares a heap for his guardian.”

Meanwhile, Bud Morgan was working with all his might, trying to locate and cure the engine trouble. Bud was a very determined fellow, as his chums had learned many a time in the past. Once he set his mind on accomplishing anything he would persist everlastingly at the job, even when it seemed next door to hopeless.

“I’m beginning to get on to it, boys, I want to tell you,” he finally said, as he crawled out from under the car so as to stretch his cramped limbs, and wipe the perspiration from his forehead with a bandanna that had once upon a time been a beautiful red, but was now sadly faded.

“But almost two hours have slipped by since our plug engine balked on us,” complained Blake Merton, painfully. “Not that I’m trying to rub it into you fellows, because both of you are doing the work, while a greenhorn like me has to sit around and grunt, and count the minutes. If only some other motorist would come along about now maybe he might be able to lend us a hand.”

“Wish to gracious one would show up,” sighed Bud. “What a fellow doesn’t know about pesky engines like this would fill a book. Another pilot might just happen to be familiar with this particular kind of trouble. ‘Many men, many minds,’ you remember. But don’t think I’m going to give it up. There’s a little of the old U. S. Grant about me, and I purpose ‘fighting it out on this line if it takes all summer.’”

“That’s a bully way of looking at it, Bud, and I give you lots of credit,” said Blake, shrugging his shoulders. “If we stick here until tomorrow I might just as well head back toward Oakvale, for all the good a visit to camp will do me.”

“Listen!” warned Hugh, holding up a finger.

“Ginger! some one coming, as sure as anything!” ejaculated Bud, looking inexpressibly relieved.

The plain sound of an approaching car could now be heard. It was also coming from the same direction as their course had just covered, that is, from distant Oakvale.

“I can see him starting to take the hill,” announced Blake, eagerly, “and, say, if it is only a flivver, it tackles the rise as if no ascent had any terrors for it. One man is in the little car, but, then, he may be an angel in disguise. I hope so, I certainly do.”

So the trio of anxious scouts waited for the coming of the lone motorist whose small car was already courageously mounting the elevation.