Produced by Steven desJardins and PG Distributed Proofreaders.
cover of The Western Story Library No. 41, Ted Strong'sMotor Car, by Edward C. Taylor]
Ted Strong's Motor Car
OR, FAST AND FURIOUS
By EDWARD C. TAYLORAuthor of the Ted Strong Stories
1915
Ted Strong's Motor Car
CHAPTER 1.
TALKING ABOUT SMART HOGS!
Carl Schwartz burst into the living room of the Moon Valley Ranch housewith fire in his eye and pathos in his voice:
"As sheur as I standing here am, dot schwein I'm going to kill!"'
"I'll jest bet yer a million dollars ter a piece o' custard pie yerdon't," said Bud Morgan, rising from the lounge where he had beenresting after a strenuous day in the big pasture.
"I'll pet you," shouted Carl. "Der pig pelongs mit me der same as you."
"Go ahead, then," said Bud, lying down again. "But I want ter tell yerthis, and take it from me, it's ez straight ez an Injun's hair, yer kinkill yer own part o' thet hawg if yer want ter, but if my part dies I'llwallop yer plenty. I've spent too much time teachin' thet pig tricks terlose it now."
"Vich part der pig you own, anyvay?"
"Ther best part; ther head."
"Den I dake der tail. By Chiminy, I get skvare yet so soon. I cut dertail off, und dot vill make der pig not able to valk straight ven hecan't der tail curl in der opposite direction. Den ve see how mooch dertricks he done. Vat?"
"I'll hev ther law on yer if yer interfere with thet pig."
"What's the matter with you two fellows?" asked Ted Strong, the leaderof the broncho boys, who was writing some letters at the big oak tablein the center of the room.
"Der pig, he moost die," cried Carl tragically.
"Why, what has 'Oof' done now?"
"He has ate all mein gabbages," answered Carl, with almost a sob.
"Well, s'posin' he hez," said Bud. "What in thunder is cabbages fer, ifthey ain't ter be et by pigs?"
"Yes, you, but not fer dose kind of pig. Maybe you might eat dem und itvould be all right, but not der pig mit four feet."
Carl had a small garden back of the ranch house, in which he had beenraising cabbages, devoting all his spare time to them and good-naturedlytaking the joshing the boys gave him. They were of the opinion that acow-puncher was degrading himself by working in a garden.
"Jumpin' sand hills, he'll be takin' up knittin' when winter comes on,an' makin' of his own socks," said Bud, in disgust.
"No, he's going in for tatting," said Ben Tremont. "He's going to make alot of doilies for the chairs so we won't soil the satin upholstery withour oily hair."
As all the chairs in the living room were very plain, made of solid oak,with bullhide seats and backs, this remark was received with laughter.
"Go aheadt!" said Carl. "Ven you ain'dt drough, let me know. I know yourown bizziness. Ven der vinter comes und I haf dot deliciousnesssauerkraut, und am eating it, und ven your mouts vater so dot youslobber like a colt off der clover, den--ah, den, I gifs you der ha-ha,ain'dt it? Den you see who der knitting und der tatting do, eh?"
Carl laughed at the thought of how the boys would miss the sauerkrautwhich he was going to make. But now "Oof," the pet pig of theestablishment, had eaten them nearly all, and was standing in his stytoo full even for the utterance of his usual lazy grunt. He looked likean animated keg of sauerkraut with four pegs at the corners for him tostand on, so full was he of Carl's cherished and esculent cabbages.
"How in the world did he get into the cabbage patch?" asked Ted. "Ithought you had made it pig tight."
"So did I," answered Carl. "No pig but vun mit der teufel inside himvould haf got der fence over."
"Got over ther fence!" snorted Bud. "Why, yer feeble-minded son of adowntrodden race, thet thar pig couldn't hev got over ther fence withouta balloon. Thet fence is six feet high. A deer couldn't jump it."
"I didn't saying so. He cannot yump, dot pig. He cannot moof, so fullmit gabbages are he. No, he didn't yump, he yoost sving himself over mitdot fence."
"Slush! Yer gittin' plumb dotty. No pig could swing hisself over thetfence."
"But it's der only vay vat he could, und Song, der Chineser cook, sawhim did it."
"You don't believe what a Chinyman tells yer, do yer?"
"What did Song say? How did the pig do it?" asked the boys, roused tointerest in the squabble by this statement.
"Vell, Song he say dot he vos looking der vinder ouid und he saw der pigtake der end of dot long rope vot hangs down mit der roof of der hayhouse in his teeth, und he svings on it some. Song say he t'ought it vassome of Pud's foolishment he vas teaching dot pig, und didn't no morelook at him for a leetle vile. Ven he looked again der pig vas svingingavay oop high by der rope. Den I coom along und see der pig in dergabbages, und I takes me a stick und vallops him goot ofer der hams,und drife him his pen into."
"Shucks! Is that all ther story? That don't prove nothin'. Thet pig,Oof, is a animile of high intelligence. He wuz needin' exercise beforedinner. He found a hole in ther fence, er maybe he tunneled one ferhisself, an' he wuz jest kinder doin' some gymnasium work ter git up agood appetite. Yer cain't make me believe a Chinyman, nohow."
"I don't know," said Ben thoughtfully, "pigs are mighty smart. He mighthave swung himself over by the rope, and, if so, I think he was entitledto his dinner as a reward for his ingenuity."
"I don't pay for no pig's inchenoomity mit my gabbages," said Carlhotly. "Vere I get more gabbages fer der sauerkraut, tell me dot?"
"Yer don't git no sauerkraut, that's all," growled Bud. "But speakin'about pigs bein' smart, I jest reckon they aire."
"There are three animals that people persist in calling stupid, whenthey are only strong-minded and more intelligent than the otheranimals," said Kit Summers, quietly breaking into the conversation.
"What aire they?" asked Bud.
"The pig, the mule, and the goose," answered Kit.
"Come ter think o' it, yer right ez a book," said Bud, rising from thelounge and joining the other boys in front of the fireplace. "Why, Iremember onct down on the Pecos--"
Ben Tremont rose lazily and stretched himself.
"Well, so long, boys," he said. "If I ain't back for supper don't waitfor me."
"Whar yer goin'?" asked Bud, with a black look from under his brows.
"I've got some work to do this evening, and I don't want to be gettingdrowsy," answered Ben, with a wink at Kit.
"Go then, yer varmint," said Bud savagely. "This yere incerdent whatI'm goin' ter relate is fer intelligent persons only."
"In that case I shall have to remain," said Ben, throwing his huge bulkinto a chair, that creaked like a house in a high wind.
"How about that Pecos story?" said Ted.
"'Tis erbout pigs."
"I didn't know there were any pigs down in that country," said Ted, witha sly smile.
"Oh, yes, there aire. Some folks calls them peccaries, an' othersalludes ter them ez wild hawgs. Yer pays yer money an' chooses what yerlikes best."
"Well, what about them?"
"'Tain't noways what ye'd call much o' a story, but it 'lustrates therintelligence o' ther hawg, which in my 'pinion ez almost ez great ezthet o' some collidge gradooates what I hev mixed with."
Bud stopped and looked hard at Ben, who seemed to be taking a nap in hisbig chair.
With a snort of disgust Bud turned his back on the big fellow and began:
"Me an' 'Peep-o'-day' Thompson wuz ridin' herd on a bunch o' cattlebelongin' ter ole man Bradish. All we hed ter do wuz ter keep 'em fromdriftin' too fur, which nat'rally left us much time fer meditation an'conversation.
"But it wa'n't long before I'd told all my stories, an' Peep
bed plumbfergot I'd tole them ter him, an' wuz tellin' them all over ter me,claimin' they'd happened ter him.
"I stood it fer a spell because I didn't want ter make no frictionbetwixt him an' me, but it made me sore jest ther same, because therderned lump allays got ther story balled up so's I hed trouble inreconnizin' it sometimes. An' he inveribly got ther p'int o' ther storyhindside fore, which made me jest bile. But when yer on a long watchwith a feller, an' got ter see him from sunup ter moonrise, it's betterter overlook a lot o' things.
"Well, 's I wuz sayin', we wuz on this stunt, an' had been out all o'three month, takin' turns cookin' an' watchin' so's one o' us could giterway from ther other fer a spell, an' go off an' sit down an' tellhisself what a awful chump ther other wuz, an' how yer hated him.
"We hed a chuck wagon with us filled with flour, salt sowbelly an'saleratus, with some coffee an' a few pounds o' fine terbaccer fermakin' cigareets. I ain't sayin' nothin' erginst sowbelly ez thernational food o' ther plains an' ther staff o' life in farmin'communities, but ez a steady diet it begins ter pall when taken day inan' day out with nothin' ter wash it down with but weak coffee madeouter alkali water.
"I reckon both me an' Peep wuz gittin' tired o' one another's cookin',if ther truth wuz knowed, fer Peep could make ther wust biscuit I everet.
"My biscuit jest suited me ter a ty-ty, an' I reckon Peep felt ther sameway erbout hisn. Every time we set down ter vittles, if it wuz my weekter cook, Peep w'd begin ter talk o' ther fine cookin' his wife uster dobefore she run erway with er Sant' Fe conductor down ter Raton, Noo Mex.He'd tell me how she'd make beef stoo an' hot biscuit thet would melt inyer mouth. 'I don't like them kind,' sez I, one day. 'I like somethin' Ikin chew on. What'd ther Lord give us teeth fer if grub is ter melt inther mouth? No, sir; give me mine gristle an' hide. Ther tougher they bether better I like 'em,' sez I.
"'Is thet thar meant ez a reflection on my wife?' sez Peep, bristlin'up.
"'I never met yer wife,' sez I, 'an' we'll let thet part o' it pass, ferye knows me well enough thet I never make no remarks erbout wimminfolkswhat ain't smooth an' complimentary. But I stands on thergristle-an'-hide propersition ontil I'm ready ter fight fer it.'
"Yer see, I wuz gettin' some peevish erbout Peep. Ole man Bradish hedleft us alone tergether too long. It ain't right fer two fellers tercamp side by each fer so long without a third party buttin' in ter breakther monotony.
"'All right,' sez he, unlimberin' his six foot three o' len'th from therground. 'Thet,' sez he, real dignified, 'is either a challenge or ainvitation ter fight.'
"'It be,' sez I. 'Either way yer wanter take it.'
"We both riz up.
"'How d'yer want it?' sez he.
"'Please yerself,' sez I. 'Any ole holt is my fav'rite.'
"'Anythin' goes, then,' sez he, makin' a rush at me.
"Jest then we hear a turrible noise, gruntin', squealin', an' sich. Weboth stopped an' looked eround, an' thar stood watchin' us a big band o'wild hawgs.
"'Fresh meat!' we both hollers simultaneous. At this ther hawgs ups an'runs.
"It wuz my day off, an' hostilities stopped right thar ez I runs an'gits my rifle an' leaps my cayuse an' takes after ther hawgs, Peephollerin' after me ez friendly ez yer please.
"I chased them hawgs a couple o' miles ter ther river bank, whar theyhid in ther canebrake. I couldn't get ther cayuse ter go in after them,so I gits down an' breaks my way in tryin' ter git a shot at one o'them, my mouth waterin' fer fresh pork so's I wuz almost wadin' in it.
"Purty soon I come in sight o' them. A ole boar wuz in charge o' them,an' he wuz a hard-lookin' citizen, I want ter tell yer. He hed tushesfive inches long an' both o' 'em ez sharp ez razors. I took a shot athim, but his hide wuz so tough thet ther ball just glanced off him, an'he made a break fer me. I turned an' fled. Ther river wuz not fur erway,an' I knowed thet if I beat them hawgs ter it I wuz safe.
"I jest did it, an' waded out ez fur ez I could an' started ter swim.'When I gits ter ther other side I'll take some long shots at yer,'thinks I, 'an' we'll hev hawg meat yit.'
"I gits out inter ther middle o' ther stream when I hears a puffin' an'a gruntin' behind me. I looks over my shoulder an' here comes ther wholeherd swimmin' right after me as--"
"That settles it," said Ben, as he rose with a snort of disgust.
"What's ther matter with yer?" asked Bud calmly.
"Yer story is what I thought it would be--wild and woolly and full ofcockleburs."
"How is thet ag'in?"
"It's rotten. Don't you know, as long as you have been on earth, thatswine cannot swim without committing suicide?"
"Go ahead. Will you kindly tell us fer why, perfessor?"
"Certainly. The hoofs of pigs are so sharp, and their forelegs are setso far under their bodies, that when they attempt to swim their hoofsstrike their fat throats, cutting them, and they die from loss ofblood."
"Thet's c'rect, my son. Every schoolboy knows thet thar p'int in nat'ralhistory."
"Then why are you insulting our intelligence by stating that a herd ofhogs followed you into the water and swam after you? Now don't springany such flower of your fancy on us as to say that the hogs all killedthemselves crossing and that you and Peep-o'-day had all the fresh meatyou wanted during the rest of your stay on the Pecos, for we won'tstand for it. I don't believe there is any such thing as a Pecos,anyway."
Bud looked so crestfallen that the other boys felt sorry for him.
"You think you're smart, don't you?" said Kit, taking Bud's finish outof his own mouth. "You big chump, it wasn't your story, anyhow."
"Don't worry, Kit," said Bud, smiling confidently. "Ben's sointellectooal thet it hurts him ter pack his knowledge eround in thetpinhead o' hisn. But he didn't finish ther story none. I knows ez wellez him thet hawgs can't swim fer ther reasons he give. But these yerehawgs I am tellin' erbout wuz different."
"How was that?"
"Yer see, thet thar ole boar wuz ez smart ez a copperation lawyer. He'dfixed them hawgs ter swim. First they got thar hoofs all balled up withgumbo, er sticky clay, then they worked ther dry grass inter ther clayand mixed 'em good an' stiff, lettin' 'em dry in ther sun. This made ahard ball on their toes thet jest slipped off their throats when theystruck."
Ben slipped into his chair with a grunt.
"O' course, I didn't know thet when I was swimmin'," continued Bud, 'an'I thinks I've run ercross a new web-footed breed o' hawgs. When we cometer ther other side I waited fer them ter land, then I turns an' swimsback, ther hawgs follerin'. Back ercross I goes erg'in, an' ther porkkeeps right on my trail.
"Purty soon I see they ain't swimmin' so spry, an' I allow they'regittin' some tired. Ther last time over ter our side o' ther river theycome slow, an' I picks out ther kind o' pork I likes best, an' ez theyland I nails what I want an' slits thar throats, an' I hev my pork. Butwhen ther rest o' them lands they's full o' fight ez ever, an' I takester ther water ag'in, but they won't foller me. This seems strange, an'I looks ter see what ther matter is.
"Ther ole boar wuz mighty smart, but he'd overlooked one p'int. He'dfergot thet ther water would melt his balls o' clay, which it did, an'they couldn't swim no more. I jest stood hip high in the water with myWinchester an' popped erway at them until they got tired an' run off,leavin' me enough fresh pork ter start a packin' house."
A hollow groan escaped from Ben.
"What's the use?" he moaned. "You can't beat him."