The Radio Boys Trailing a Voice Part 18

The lumbermen started off at high speed, and at first wrought tremendous havoc among the pies, while Jimmy ate in his usual calm and placid manner, evidently enjoying himself immensely. Each of the lumbermen had his following, who cheered him on and urged him to fresh endeavors. Bob and Joe and Herb said little, for they had observed Jimmy's prowess over a period of several years, and knew his staying qualities.

At the end of the first half hour their friend was badly outdistanced, but the other contestants had slowed up noticeably, while Jimmy still ate calmly on, no faster and no slower than when he had started. He was only starting on his second pie when all the others were finishing theirs, but the confidence of his three comrades remained unshaken. They observed that the lumbermen chose their third pies very carefully, and started to eat them in a languid way. They were only about half through when Jimmy disposed of his second one, and started on a third.

"How do you feel, Jimmy?" asked Herb, with a grin. "Are you still hungry?"

"No, not exactly hungry, but it still tastes good," replied Jimmy calmly. "You sure can make good pies, Cook."

The other contestants essayed feeble grins, but it was easy to see that their pies no longer tasted good to them. More and more slowly they ate, while Jimmy kept placidly on, his original gait hardly slackened. He finished the third pie and started nonchalantly on a fourth. At sight of this, and his confident bearing, two of the other contestants threw up their hands and admitted themselves beaten.

"I used to like pie," groaned one, "but now I hope never to see one again. That youngster must be made of rubber."

"I've often said the same thing myself," chortled Bob. "Just look at him! I believe he's good for a couple more yet."

Excitement ran high when two of the remaining lumbermen were forced out toward the middle of their fourth pie, leaving only Jimmy and a jolly man of large girth, who before the start had been picked by his companions as the undoubted winner.

"Go to it, Jack!" the lumbermen shouted now. "Don't let the youngster beat you out. He's pretty near his limit now."

It was true that flaky pie crust and luscious filling had lost their charm for Jimmy, but his opponent was in even worse plight. He managed to finish his fourth pie, but when the cook handed him a fifth, the task proved to be beyond him.

"I've reached my limit, fellers," he declared. "If the youngster can go pie number five, he'll be champion of the camp."

Excitement ran high as Jimmy slowly finished the last crumbs of his fourth pie, and the cook handed him a fifth. Would he take it, or would the contest prove to be a draw?

CHAPTER XVII

THE BULLY GETS A DUCKING

"Our man doesn't have to eat another whole pie," protested Bob. "If he just eats some of it he'll win, Mr. Judge."

"That's right," nodded the cook. "How about you, young feller? Are you able to tackle it?"

"Sure thing," responded Jimmy. "Hand it over."

He forced himself to cut and eat a small piece, and when he had finished, pandemonium broke loose. The judge declared him undisputed champion of the camp, and he was caught up and elevated to broad shoulders while an impromptu triumphal procession was organized that circled the camp with much laughter and many jokes at the expense of the defeated aspirants for the t.i.tle.

After this was over, the boys held a little private jubilation of their own in the little cabin where they were quartered with Mr. Fennington.

He had been away during the contest, but he returned shortly afterward, and laughingly congratulated Jimmy on his newly won honors.

"How do you feel?" he inquired. "Do you think you could manage another piece of pie? I'll see that you have a large piece if you think you can."

"No, sir! I've had enough pie to last me for a good while to come,"

declared Jimmy positively. "I'll be ashamed to look a pie in the face.

For the next week or so I'll have to stick to my favorite doughnuts for dessert."

"Well, you did n.o.bly, Doughnuts, and I love you more than ever,"

declared Bob. "You were up against a field that anybody might be proud to beat."

"And the best part of it, to me, is the feeling that our confidence in Jimmy's eating powers was justified," declared Joe. "After all the wonderful exhibitions he's given in the past, it would have been terrible if he hadn't come up to scratch to-night."

"The way that fellow they call Jack started off, I never thought you had a chance, Jimmy," confessed Herb.

"If he could have held that pace, I wouldn't have had a look-in,"

admitted Jimmy. "I figured he'd have to slow down pretty soon, though.

'Slow but sure' is my motto."

"How would you like to take a nice three-mile sprint now?" asked Herb mischievously.

"Three mile nothing!" exclaimed Jimmy scornfully. "I couldn't run three yards right now. I think I'll lie down and give my digestion a chance,"

and in a few minutes he was peacefully snoring.

The next morning he showed no ill effects from the prodigious feast, but ate his usual hearty breakfast. The others were forced to the conclusion that his table ability was even greater than they had suspected, and from that time on they firmly believed him to be invincible in his particular department.

By this time they were thoroughly familiar with the camp, and decided to make an excursion into the woods the following day, taking lunch with them and making it a day's outing. The cook so far departed from his usual iron-clad rules as to make them up a fine lunch, making due allowance for Jimmy's proven capacity.

They started out immediately after breakfast. Not being particular as to direction, they followed the first old logging road that they came to.

It led them deeper and deeper into the forest that was alive with the sounds and scents of spring. Last year's fallen leaves made a springy carpet underfoot, while robins sang their spring song in the budding branches overhead.

For some time the boys tramped in silence, breathing deeply of the exhilarating pine and balsam atmosphere and at peace with all the world.

Soon there was a glint of water through the trees, and the boys, with one accord, diverged from the faint trail that they had been following and were a few minutes later standing at the water's edge.

They found themselves on the sh.o.r.e of a large lake. It was ringed about with big trees, many of which leaned far out over it as though to gaze at their reflections in the water. The ripples lapped gently on a sloping sandy beach, and the invitation to swim proved irresistible to all but Jimmy.

"I know what lake water is like at this time of year," he said. "You fellows can go in and freeze yourselves all you like, but I'll stay right here and look after the things. Just dive right in and enjoy yourselves."

"Well, we won't coax you," said Bob. "But that water looks too good to miss. It is pretty cold, but I guess that won't kill us."

Off came their clothes, and with shouts and laughter they splashed through the shallow water and struck out manfully. The icy water made them gasp at first, but soon the reaction came, and they thoroughly enjoyed their swim. They tried to coax Jimmy in, but he lay flat on his back under a tree and was adamant to all their pleadings.

The others did not stay in very long, but emerged glowing from the effects of exercise and the cold water. As they were getting into their clothes they heard voices coming toward them, and they had hardly finished dressing when the voices' owners came crashing through the underbrush close to where the boys were standing.

The two groups stared in astonishment for a few moments, for the newcomers were none other than Carl Lutz, Buck Looker, Terry Mooney, and another older fellow, who was a stranger to the radio boys.

Buck's expression of surprise quickly gave place to an ugly sneer, and he turned to his friends.

"Look who's here!" he cried, in a nasty tone. "I wonder what they're up to now, Carl?"

"We're not hiding from the cops because we broke a plate gla.s.s window and were afraid to own up to it," Bob told him.

"Who broke a window?" demanded Buck. "You can't prove that it wasn't a s...o...b..ll that one of your own bunch threw that broke that window."

"We don't throw that kind of s...o...b..a.l.l.s," said Joe.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Buck.