CHAPTER XI
MR. BLACKBEARD, THE GIANT
It was with much growling and sleepy sulkiness that Soapy Gaines crawleddown from his seat in the Roadster while Pickton and Fred were openingcamp equipage and making ready for the night. By the lamps of the car heviewed their labors for a minute or two, drowsily grumbling the while,then putting a light motor robe over his head and shoulders threwhimself on the grass heavily.
"Ow! Murder! I'm killed!" came frantic screams from young Mr. Gaines thenext instant. "Ow! I'm--I'm killed dead!"
If "killed" Soapy was, however--to say nothing of his being killed"dead"--his actions were certainly extraordinary. He rolled over andover, then jumped to his feet, again calling out in greatest distressthat he was "killed," and ending with the declaration in tones both loudand angry, "Never saw such crazy idiots! Let me jump into thorns a yardlong and never say 'Look out!' Somebody'll get it for this, I'll bet,now you see!"
As a matter of fact there had chanced to be a considerable heap ofthorny branches from the hedge buried in the tall grass at the precisespot where Gaines had thrown himself. They found him out in severalplaces, piercing his back and legs painfully. And although his injurieswere, of course, not at all serious, he seemed somehow not to take thisfact into consideration.
He hopped about--"like a crazy war dance," Fred Perth muttered--thenfrantically sought to examine the damage sustained by the glare of theheadlights. All the while he was saying things, some of which were notexactly complimentary to those addressed, and vowing vengeance onsomeone or something, he apparently did not know what.
Perth could scarcely suppress a laugh but Pickton was more in a mood toexpress some very decided opinions as the two helped Gaines assurehimself that none of the thorns were still lodged in his flesh--anassurance he seemed very reluctant to accept.
"Anyhow, it shows us we'll have to be right careful about the tires.We'd have to pump _them_ up again," observed Perth with a grin.
But Soapy saw nothing funny in the remark and quite pointedly said asmuch. And it was not until Pickton had explored a spot nearer the car,on his own hands and knees, and so proved that it was wholly safe, thatthe sadly spoiled member of the party could be persuaded to stretchhimself in a blanket there and so fall asleep.
In a little while the other two of the somewhat discordant, thoughself-named "Chosen" Trio had done the same.
It was Friday night--the very evening on which a certain quartette ofother lads had selected their permanent camp in the western edge of theShip woods. Tom Pickton thought much of them, wondering where they wereand what progress they might have made by this time with the mystery ofthe "three stones" as he lay gazing at the stars.
Very fearful was Thomas that ere their stopping place could bediscovered and their movements investigated, he would be too late--toolate to learn the secret of the Auto Boys' Quest. Or if not, indeed, toofar behind them to discover the real purpose of the lads' expedition, atleast too late to do some possibly successful exploring on his ownaccount. For this, particularly, did Pick have in mind. If there washidden treasure to be found, he had the right, he considered, to locatethe same if he could do so.
But Tom fell asleep at last resolving only for the present that an earlystart must be made next morning and no pains spared to trace definitelythe movements of the young motorists whom he knew to be at least twodays in advance of the Roadster. And this resolution he carried intoprompt action.
It was just sunrise when he arose. Freddy Perth responded instantly tohis call. Gaines still slept and was left undisturbed while a tinygasoline stove was excavated from the depths of a bale of baggage andbreakfast preparations started. Perth had a long walk to obtain water,but returned bringing some fresh eggs the kind farmer's wife had offeredhim, as well; and when Soapy was at last summoned to arise he foundcoffee boiling and the morning meal just ready.
A night's rest had improved the temper of the genial Mr. Gaines,temporarily, at least. Although indulging in a deal of growling over thelack of bathing facilities, which were, in fact, noticeably wanting, he"felt like a lark." At least he said so, and perhaps he did. For acreature of that description could hardly be expected to lend a hand atpacking baggage away, pumping up a tire from which considerable air hadescaped, or anything of the kind; and certain it is that Soapy did not.
The day's running of the Trio was through a wealthy farming section.Often they stopped to inquire if the Auto Boys had passed that way, and,as the well-loaded touring car and its four youthful passengers had beennoticed by many, they found in this well populated region no want ofinformation. Even after the pike was left behind and a sparsely settledsection encountered, it was still no task to learn at one poor dwellingor another the direction the Auto Boys had traveled and the time, evento the approximate minute, when they had passed.
The sight of an automobile was not a frequent occurrence in these parts.The way the horses shied here, in contrast with the little heed theygave the machines nearer the towns, was sufficient proof of this. Thepeople, too, had paid vastly more attention to the touring car, as theyalso looked much more curiously at the Roadster here than had been thecase on more prominent thoroughfares.
So did the three lads find their spirits rising. Or, it might be moreaccurate to say, so did two of them make such observation; for when theprospect of simply crackers, coffee and cheese for lunch developed, Mr.Soapy Gaines sank into a sullen rage which continued until evening. Hewas like a volcano during such periods--smoldering constantly, butemitting flame and fury at quite frequent intervals.
If any of the boys still seriously considered their flight from Gouger'sstable as likely to make them trouble, they did not show it. Fullybelieving their captor to have been a properly authorized officer, theyunderstood their offense in escaping him to be much more serious thanthe mere charge of exceeding a speed limit would be. Once Fred suggestedthat it would have been better to have submitted to the arrest and paidtheir fine, that they might have proceeded on without fear of furthermolestation; but to this there came from Gaines so violent an eruption,in answer, that he pursued the subject no further.
Very well did Fred know, however, that at any point along the road, atany spot, whether they might be in Queensville or at the races, at anytime of night or day, the charge "fugitives from justice," might have tobe faced. Perfectly well did Pickton, also, understand this to be thevery unpleasant situation, though he grew boldly confident suchcomplications would not arise as Sagersgrove fell farther and farther tothe rear.
And on the whole it was extremely fortunate for the Trio that Eli Gougerwas far from being a regularly constituted officer of the law. Itcertainly would have been an immense relief to the inner consciences ofPerth and Pickton had they known this. Perhaps it was because Soapy wastoo positively stupid to comprehend the situation fully that, except forthe ridiculous part he had played in the affair, he would haveconsidered the escape from the barn as a particularly bright and cleverpiece of work.
As nearly as the three boys could learn, they were within fifty miles ofQueensville when lights began appearing in the windows of the fewhouses they passed, as twilight overtook them.
"Got to find beds sooner or later and why not in the first good campingplace?" Pickton suggested. "Cost less here than in town, even if wereached there all right."
"Yes! See if you can't find a bloomin', thorny hedge and both of youjump into it," came from Gaines, explosively.
"'And when he saw his eyes were out, with all his might and main He jumped into the bramble bush and scratched 'em in again,'"
quoted Pickton with a laugh. For an hour he had been trying in vain torally Soapy into a better humor. But that young gentleman making noresponse to this pleasant sally, Tom turned to Fred, on the rumble seat,saying: "You try to get some eggs and ham and bread, or whatever you canat the next house we come to and we'll go into camp right off. Blamedpity, though, we didn't make Queensville."
"Blamed pity we didn't get bacon and dried beef--any old
thing--at thatlast cross-roads store, as I wanted to," was the answer. "I don't relishwalking into strange yards and nobody knows how many dogs ready to takeyour leg off, any better than you do. And after dark, too!"
Nevertheless Fred did consent to try for provisions at the next dwellingand succeeded in buying a loaf of heavy, dark bread, a chunk of saltpork and a two-quart measure of potatoes. Moreover, the man of thehouse, a great, swarthy, black-bearded fellow, returned with him,volunteering to show the way to a suitable camping place.
Pickton was far from favorably impressed by the looks of the man or withhis deep, gruff voice. Gaines was plainly frightened. However, Fredseemed to have become quite well acquainted with the stranger at onceand the two talked and walked together, as the man led the way forward.
Pickton drove up slowly, behind, and in a little while crossed a smallbridge spanning what appeared to be a nearly dry water course. But justbeyond this the party was conducted over another bridge, a small affairof light timbers, erected over the wide, deep gutter at the roadside.The heavy car caused the flimsy structure to sag threateningly, andremembering the predicament following Mr. Gouger's leadership, Pickliked less and less the piloting of the black-bearded stranger.
It was now entirely dark. The car's headlights showed no roadahead--only the closely-cropped grass of a pasture with here and thereclumps of brush and weeds. It was a wild enough appearing place, indeed,to have caused older men than these lads to look askance beforeproceeding further.
"Right ahead here, bub! It's only a shortish piece," the strangercalled.
There was nothing for it but to follow or name a reason for not doingso. Tom allowed the machine to creep forward, though Gaines whispered,"We'll be murdered and robbed, that's what we'll be!" It was a realrelief to both when Perth's voice came back through the darkness a fewseconds later, "Come on up with the car. Here we are, and it'sfirst-class."
Almost immediately the headlights shone upon an open space under somechestnut trees. It was at the foot of a steep rise of ground. Here thesmall stream crossing the road, just below, formed a deep, narrow pool,clear and cool. Fallen limbs and branches of a giant chestnut long sincedead and now dry as tinder, lay here and there, affording the finestsort of firewood. The short, velvety grass beneath the thick foliage ofthe living trees was like a lawn and in all respects the conditionspresented a splendid camp location.
"Ye'll want a fire the first thing," the black-bearded fellow said, andat once collected an armful of the dry wood. "Now ye can peel yer tatersan' cook 'em like a ding-dang. Fry yer pork, too! Got a skillet?" saidhe, as the bright blaze he started flamed up.
And upon being assured that everything needful was at hand, thestranger bade the party good-night and strode away. A minute later hisheavy foot-falls upon the light wooden bridge over the ditch were heard.And although by this time the boys were inclined to believe he meantthem nothing but kindness, it was a relief to have him out of sight andhearing.
Late as it was, Fred proposed a hearty supper. All were hungry andGaines and Pickton found the suggestion quite agreeable, the lattermaking the reservation, however, that he'd "be blamed" if he was goingto wash any dishes afterward. The remark was quite like Soapy, allthrough. Also, much as he sniffed and, in Fred's language, "turned uphis nose" at the salt pork, he ate heartily, not to say greedily, ofthat fare, though the meat and potatoes were scarcely more than halfcooked.
Whatever other faults he may have had, Pickton never objected to doing afair share of work. He fell to at the dish washing while Perth opened upblankets for the night. The campfire was very cheerful, though thegasoline stove of their outfit had been found more convenient forcooking, for all three lads lacked a broad camping experience. So morewood was brought to keep the fire blazing, and in all the odd choresperformed, necessary or otherwise, the sum total of Mr. Soapy Games'contribution to the labor was the opening of his own suit case to find aclean shirt he wished to put on in the morning.
Although their supper and a vigorous washing of dusty, dirty hands andfaces (which, quite contrary to precedent, followed rather than precededtheir repast), had made each member of the Trio more optimistic thanthey had lately been, they still felt apprehensive concerning theswarthy giant of a fellow on whose land they were. Fred insisted that hemeant only kindness, but when asked why the man should want to be morethan decently civil to utter strangers, he could only answer, "GoodSamaritan!"
All night long Pickton scarcely slept, so doubtful of Mr. Blackbeard'sseemingly good intentions was he. Gaines had merely said, "Well, youfellows have got to keep your eyes open. I sleep sound as a bat andwould never wake up no matter what happened." Then he had growled agreat deal about the quality of his bed until at last he was snoringtremendously.
Perth's confidence in the "Good Samaritan" gave him a sense of realsecurity and he dozed off quickly. And in the meantime Mr. Blackbeardhimself had returned to his homely, unpainted house and sat himself downwith Mrs. Blackbeard on the kitchen doorstep.
"Likely young fellers," said he. "Might have asked 'em into the housebut they'd probably rather sleep out. Beat's all where some folks getall the money, Lizzie!" His tone was one of wonder, rather thancomplaint. "Here's them snips of young shavers tearin' over the countryhavin' a good time while you,--you that's worth a hay-rack load of 'em,ain't got a fairly good go-to-meetin' gingham dress, an' won't havetill we sell the wheat that ain't hardly mor'n headed out yet. Beat'sall, don't it?"
"Well, well, it's all right, John! Everybody has their good times,accordin' to their different ways an' means," the woman answered simply."We have ours an' plenty enough to be thankful for, every day of ourlives."
The whole of which goes to show that for every Eli Gouger in the worldthere is somewhere a true and honest, manly man bringing the generalaverage up. Also, that big, generous hearts are often found in roughexteriors, and some of earth's truest nobility dwelling in obscureplaces. But--
"Gee Whiz! This is another day!" exclaimed Freddy Perth, several hourslater, sitting up suddenly to find the sunlight filtering in through thechestnut branches.
And, quite remarkable as he seemed to think it, it was.