The High School Boys' Training Hike Part 13

Besides, both law and custom forbade six boys clad only in bathing trunks from running along the highway.

"You'll find the wagon a few miles from here!" jeered the tramp who held the reins. "We'll leave it when we're through with it.

We-----"

But further words could not be heard for the wagon had vanished from view at a turn in the road between the trees.

"We're in a bad pickle, now!" gasped Tom Reade.

But d.i.c.k, studying the lay of the land with swift glances, saw just one chance. If the tramps turned the horse in the right direction on gaining the highway-----

d.i.c.k broke off his thoughts there.

"Tom, you and Dave pursue a little way and travel like lightning,"

ordered young Prescott. "The rest of you pick up stones! Fast!

Come along now."

On reaching the highway the driver was forced to make a little turn in order to cross the bridge, in case he decided to travel in the direction that the boys had been going. So d.i.c.k dashed ahead, hoping to profit by the one chance he saw.

Just as luck would have it, the tramps turned in the right direction.

The horse, galloping fast under the lash, struck his forefeet on the bridge.

Whack! clatter! plug! Four high school boys, all of them baseball players and proud of their straight throwing, sent a small shower of rocks whizzing through the air.

These struck the bridge planks well ahead of the horse.

"Stop---or the next ones will hit you!" shouted young Prescott.

Just by way of suggestion he threw one stone that flew by within a foot of the nearer tramp's head. Holmes duplicated the throw.

"Stop that!" yelled one of the tramps, but he brought the horse to a standstill.

"Don't you throw any more stones!" yelled the tramp, as he saw the four ball players poised ready for more work in that line.

"Then hold the horse where he is until we come and take him,"

ordered d.i.c.k.

"We won't, and don't you throw any more stones," ordered the tramp.

"Jerry, turn your pistol loose on the young cubs if they throw another stone. Giddap!"

"That's a bluff. You haven't any pistol," d.i.c.k called to the tramps coolly. "Just start that horse, and we'll knock both your heads off with stones. We know how to throw 'em."

Splash! Greg Holmes had taken to the narrow river. Now he was striking out l.u.s.tily for the other side. In case the horse was started Holmes would be there, with a handful of stones with which to bombard the fugitives in pa.s.sing.

"You fellers quit throwing stones, or you're going to get hurt!"

But the pause had accomplished the very thing for which d.i.c.k had waited.

"Throw another stone," repeated the tramp, "and you'll get-----"

"Oh, tell it to the Senate!" broke in Tom Reade, climbing into the wagon and seizing the speaker. Dave, who had crept up with him, had gripped the other tramp by the collar.

Both tramps were thrown from the seat. Ere they could recover from their astonishment, Reade and Darrin had leaped down upon their tormentors.

"In with them!" ordered d.i.c.k.

Two splashes, occurring almost in the same second, testified to the tackling skill that Reade and Darrin had acquired on the gridiron.

d.i.c.k and his friends stood by to rescue the tramps, in case either of them could not swim.

Both could, however, and struck out for the sh.o.r.e, abusing the boys roundly as they swam.

Dave had seized the horse's bridle, and was now turning the animal about. Tom walked on the other side of the wagon.

"Look out, Greg!" called d.i.c.k suddenly, as the tramps, gaining the opposite sh.o.r.e, made a sudden rush at Holmes, who stood alone.

"I can take care of myself!" chuckled Greg gleefully, as dodging backward, he poised his right hand to throw a stone. "Look out, friends, unless you want to get hurt!"

Both tramps halted in a good deal of uncertainty. They wanted to thrash this high school boy, but they didn't like the risk of having their heads hurt by flying stones.

Two splashes on the other side of the river heralded the fact that Dan and Harry had started to Greg's aid. The instant they saw this, both men turned away from Greg, making a dash for the highway.

Laughing, young Holmes followed them up with all the missiles he had left. Not one dropped further than three feet from the flying heels of the fugitives, yet not one struck either of the tramps or was meant to do so.

"Come across, you three fellows," laughed young Prescott, when the enemy had vanished in flight. You've all earned your breakfast now, and you shall have it."

"As for me," spoke Tom from the wagon, as he drove into the forest path, "I'm strong for putting on my clothes before I sit down to dally with food."

Reade did not wait until he had driven the wagon where he and his friends could dress away from the view of people on the road.

"The cast-iron cheek of those scoundrels!" vented Dave Darrin indignantly.

"I rather think we are their debtors," smiled d.i.c.k quietly, as he drew his shirt over his head.

"You do!" demanded Darry incredulously.

"Yes; just think of all the zest they've put into our morning, and they didn't harm us, either."

"But just think of what it would have been like if we hadn't stopped 'em!" gasped Danny Grin solemnly. "We couldn't have chased 'em.

It wouldn't have been decent for us to go along the road, making four miles to every five covered by the horse. No, sir! We'd have had to remain hidden in the forest until we could signal some farmer to send to our folks for clothes to put on. Wouldn't it have been great, staying in the woods two or three days, with nothing to eat, waiting for the proper clothing to enable us to go out into the world again!"

"It was a mean trick!" cried Darry hotly; and then he began to laugh as the ridiculous features of the situation appealed to him.

"But nothing serious happened," laughed d.i.c.k, "so we owe that pair of tramps for a pleasant touch to the morning's sport."

"I wonder how many years since either of them has had a bath, until this morning," grinned Reade, as he began to lace his shoes.

As Reade was dressed first, d.i.c.k called to him: "Take the horse out of the shafts, Tom, and let him feed in comfort."

"You may," laughed Reade. "As for me, I've flirted with my breakfast so long this morning, and have taken so many chances of not having any, that now I'm going to make sure of that first of all."