Bert Wilson at the Wheel Part 18

Calling up all their courage, the brave boys resolved to face, without flinching, whatever awaited them. Once past the bridge and onto the broad roadway beyond, they knew that they would be safe. On level ground, with the power shut off, they would come to a standstill.

But "would they ever reach that level roadway?" each boy asked himself, with sinking heart.

Bert renewed his efforts to use the worthless brake, but without avail.

Down, down, they flew, gaining speed with every pa.s.sing moment, and now the bridge was in sight. Another moment, and they would be upon it.

"Courage, fellows," said Bert, in low, tense tones, and bracing himself, he concentrated all his mind and energy in guiding the car to the center of the bridge.

When a few hundred feet away the forward wheel struck a large stone, and the machine, which had been headed directly for the bridge, swerved to one side, and now sped onward toward the river.

With lightning-like rapidity Bert wrenched the steering wheel around, and once more, with only a few feet of s.p.a.ce to spare, the "Red Scout"--good old "Red Scout," was headed _almost_ for the middle of the bridge--not quite--the s.p.a.ce had been too small. To the boys, looking ahead with straining, despairing eyes, it seemed that they _must_ crash into the railing, and that nothing could save them.

Instinctively they closed their eyes, as the car dashed upon the bridge, expecting each minute to hear the crash of breaking timbers, and to feel themselves falling into the engulfing waters of the rushing river.

But the expected did not happen. Like a bird the "Red Scout" skimmed over the bridge, missing the railing by a hair's breadth, and was out upon the broad roadway. Almost before the boys could realize their escape from the awful danger that had threatened them, it was over, and the "Red Scout" gradually losing its speed, at last stood still.

Breathless, speechless, dazed, almost overcome, the boys sat looking at each other for a few moments, until, the full realization of their wonderful escape coming upon them, they grasped each other's hands convulsively. Each knew that in the other's heart, none the less earnest for being unexpressed, was a fervent prayer of thankfulness for their deliverance; but as speech returned to them, the first words uttered by Tom, were, "What do you think of that for cla.s.sy driving, fellows?" at which they all laughed nervously.

Their laugh did not last long, however, for in the midst of it, out from among the trees and shrubbery that skirted the roadway emerged two rural constables. As if one overwhelming experience were not enough, the constables informed them that they were arrested for exceeding the speed limit.

Bert was the first to recover from the shock, and giving his companions a comical, but rea.s.suring look, he stepped forward and said, "We have been speeding some, officers, but we simply couldn't help it," and he proceeded to explain. But the boys' faces expressed their consternation when they found that their explanation was not credited.

"We only have your word for that," said one of the men, "and you will have to convince the judge that you are telling the truth."

"Why, you certainly won't arrest us for an accident to our brake, for which we are not at all to blame!" cried Tom, indignantly.

"Well," said one constable, giving his fellow a knowing wink, "perhaps if you have a 'tenner' that you have no use for, we might forget all about it."

Bert, flushed and indignant, refused, and without further protest, the three boys, followed by the two constables, took their places in the car. As they were only a short distance from town, they soon arrived at the court house, and were left in an ante room to await their turn for a hearing.

Once alone, the three comrades stood for the second time within an hour, looking into each other's faces. As Tom afterwards said, "too full for utterance."

Suddenly Ben began strutting around the room in a most pompous manner, remarking, "I guess you don't know who we are. You know," said he, "that one is not a howling swell until he has been pinched for speeding, so behold us three aristocrats!" with another strut across the room.

The boys could not help laughing, but Bert said, "Well, if this is being an aristocrat, I'd rather be excused. It won't be quite such a laughing matter if we find ourselves fined fifty or a hundred dollars."

"But," began Tom, and said no more, for at that moment they were called before the judge.

They were obliged to stand by and hear the constable's charge against them, given in detail. Then the judge turned to them----

"What are your names?" was the first question.

Bert replied for the three. Upon hearing the names the magistrate started, and looked keenly at them, but said nothing further than to ask what they had to say to the charge brought against them. Bert gave a clear and connected account of the accident to the auto brake, and its consequences, and ended by saying, that if any proof were needed, an examination of the brake would show the truth of their account.

The judge accepted the boy's statement, dismissed the charge against them, and turned to them a face from which all sternness had vanished, and been replaced by such a genial, friendly smile, that the three comrades were filled with wonderment. This was not lessened when the magistrate asked them if they were the three brave fellows who had stopped the two runaways a few days before, and saved the lives of the ladies who were driving.

With amazement that the judge should know of the runaway, plainly written on their faces, the boys acknowledged that they had stopped the horses, but added that it was their auto that had frightened the animals, and so it had plainly been up to them to help.

The magistrate smiled more broadly at this, but repeated that they were brave boys, and that he was glad to meet them.

Looking quizzically at them, he said: "I have a special interest in those two ladies. One of them is my wife, and the other my daughter, and I can never repay you for what you have done for me. You have made me your debtor for life. If I can ever do anything for you, be sure and let me know."

Another handshake all around, and the boys found themselves free once more. Were they happy?--well, you should have seen them as they climbed into the car and headed toward camp.

Events had so crowded upon each other that for the first mile or so the three speeders sat silently reviewing the occurrences of this most amazing day. And Tom, recalling their court room experience, broke out with:

"Gee whiz, I'm glad I'm free No prison cell for me."

This provoked a laugh and broke the tension, and a moment afterward a scouting party from the camp hailed them boisterously: "Where are those fish?" "How long do you think we can live without eating?" "Stand and deliver or take the consequences"--and as the auto came to a standstill, the basket was s.n.a.t.c.hed and hurried off to the mess tent. Soon a delicious odor made every hungry boy's mouth water, and when at last they gathered around the table it was with wolfish appet.i.tes that they paid their respects to that belated fish dinner.

CHAPTER XVII

BIDDY HARRIGAN REMEMBERS

"Cast thy bread--cast thy bread upon the waters,

"And it shall return--it shall return unto thee after many days,"

chanted a clear, high voice, truly a wonderful voice, which Bert claimed as his own discovery.

It was almost bed-time in the camp. The day had been a most fatiguing one, and all had returned so weary that no one cared for the usual lively evening entertainment. Even Mr. Hollis had said that he was "dog-tired," and he felt with the boys that the very finest thing in the world was just stretching out on the gra.s.s, resting weary feet, and saying to one's self: "Nothing to do till tomorrow."

It was a perfect evening, cool and quiet. There was no moon, but the stars twinkled brightly, and the boys had been looking up at them and trying to make out some of the six constellations that everyone should be familiar with. But even that, in their present state of laziness, was too much like work, and now they lay doing and almost thinking nothing.

Even Don, the big collie, that the tramps had deserted, was not inclined to romp with the boys as usual, but lay quietly with his great head resting upon his paws. He had become the pet and plaything of the whole camp and treated them all impartially except Bert whom he had chosen as his one particular master. He wanted no other heaven than this--to lie, as now, close to Bert, whose hand caressed his head while he said now and again: "Good dog"; "Good old fellow!" Don, like the boys, was at peace with all the world.

Suddenly, someone started a popular air in which all joined. This put them in a musical humor, and song followed song, changing after a while from popular music and rollicking college songs to those of a more sentimental nature. Most of the boys had good voices. With the soprano of some, the tenors of the older fellows and Mr. Hollis' fine ba.s.s, the camp singing would have delighted any lover of music.

Whenever the boys had sung together, they had noticed that Phil's voice had never joined in with the others. They had guyed him about it but as he would never answer them, they had come to the conclusion that he could not sing and was sensitive about it, so they had stopped teasing him.

To-night, as the notes of "The Soldier's Farewell" floated over the camp, Bert noticed that Shorty was singing for the first time, and though his voice was low as though he were purposely holding it back, for fear the attention of the boys might be drawn to it, the notes were remarkably clear and pure.

When the song ended, Bert turned to Phil and asked him if he liked music. Phil answered that he loved it and added more as if he were thinking aloud than talking, that it was "the finest thing on earth."

The boys sat up and stared. There was a moment of surprised silence and then a chorus of voices:

"Then you can sing?"

"We never dreamed you could."

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"Why wouldn't you sing for us?"

"Because," said Phil, who had decided to tell them the real reason at last, "because all you big fellows thought that just because I was small, I couldn't do anything worth while, and I was sore."