CHAPTER VIII
A BREAKDOWN
During the meal at the hotel, Professor Snodgrass gave further detailsof how he had happened to become a stowaway in the big car. He hadfinished his work at Boxwood Hall and had made his plans to go on thetrip with the boys. He had spent the night at the hotel in Cresville,for he had arrived there late, and he said he did not want to go to theSlade home and disturb their domestic arrangements.
But instead of going to bed in the hotel he sat up all night, as hehad often done before, preserving his specimens and looking for signsof the rare moth he wanted to add to his collection. Then he went onto Ned’s home in the morning, unconventionally getting into one of theautomobile bunks where he fell asleep from the effects of the headacheremedy, as described.
“Well, guess we might as well get under way again,” remarked Jerry,at the conclusion of the meal. “Hoist up the anchor, Ned, and I thinkyou’d better take the helm. I want a rest.”
“All right, Cap. Where’s Bob?” Ned asked, for the stout lad was not insight. He came into the dining-room a moment later, carrying a bulkypackage, and there was a guilty look on his face as he saw his chumslooking at it.
“Well, for the love of butter and eggs!” cried Jerry. “What have youthere, Son?”
“This is bait for white-tailed night moths,” Bob answered, grinning. “Igot some from the chef to use in the traps the professor is going toset.”
“He has you there, Jerry!” laughed Ned. “Go to it, Bob! I’ll help eat’em.”
They found Professor Snodgrass eagerly looking along the shady side ofthe hotel, a large magnifying glass in his hand, and behind him stood agroup of men observing him with puzzled eyes.
“I was looking for a small, rare bug, green in color, that I sawcrawling on the side of the hotel,” the professor explained. “I haveonly one in my collection, and if anything should happen to that Iwould be at a great loss. I saw it crawling here a while ago, but itmust have gone down a crack. However, I won’t delay you boys, though Ishould very much like to have that bug.”
“Is this it?” asked one of the observers, making a sudden grab forsomething in the air. He brought what he had caught to the professor,and the latter’s eager glance gave way to disappointment when he saw agreen grasshopper fly from the opened hand.
“Oh, pshaw!” cried the man. “He’s gone!”
“It wasn’t what I wanted,” returned the professor with a smile. “Thankyou, though. I shall have to try again some other time. Now, boys, I’mready to go on with you.”
The rest of that day passed uneventfully. Good time was made and whenevening approached the boys and the professor had put about two hundredmiles between themselves and Cresville, and were that much nearerSquare Z ranch.
“What’s it going to be--camp out or sleep in a hotel?” asked Ned, whohad remained at the wheel since dinner time. “That sign we passed awhile ago said there was a hotel about five miles further on.”
“Let’s camp out,” suggested Bob. “It’s nice and warm, and this looks tobe a good place,” and he indicated a little group of trees across somegreen fields that bordered the wood. “We could run the car up in thereand be well out of the way.”
“I’m willing,” assented Jerry.
“Then we’ll go to it,” declared Ned. “Let’s see if we can get acrossthe fields safely.”
They stopped the car and walked on a little way. They came to what wasevidently a wagon road leading to the woods, and, after taking downthe bars of the rail fence, the automobile was driven to the edge ofthe little patch of woods, being left for the night in a small clearing.
“And now for an old-fashioned camping-out time!” cried Bob, as heleaped from his seat. “We’ll have a fire and everything. I brought acouple of dressed chickens along, and we can broil them over the coalsand----”
“Chunky, you’re a lad after my own heart!” cried Jerry. “Forgive allthe fun we’ve poked at you.”
“Same here,” echoed Ned.
“Sure!” agreed Bob, good-naturedly. “Now for the fire!”
“I’ll get the wood,” offered Jerry, “and we’ll let you broil thechickens. You can make a better job of it than either Ned or I.”
“Well, I’ll do my best,” and Bob seemed modestly proud of the honorthrust upon him.
“I don’t fancy standing over a bed of coals turning a broiler,”whispered Jerry to Ned as the two set about collecting dry wood. “LetBob do it.”
“Sure, he’s tickled to pieces,” and Ned chuckled.
To do Bob justice, he made good work of broiling the chickens, as evenProfessor Snodgrass admitted, and he was a man who cared less abouteating than any one the boys knew.
HE MADE GOOD WORK OF BROILING THE CHICKENS.]
“Well, this is something like!” exclaimed Ned, as he and his chums satabout the glowing fire after supper and talked over the events of theday, speculating on what lay before them.
“You’ve said it!” agreed Jerry, leaning back comfortably against a tree.
The professor was wandering about with a small net and an electricflashlight, trying to gather bugs in the early twilight.
The tent had been put in place--that is, the curtains had been extendedout at the rear and the folding cots had been set up. Two bunks were inthe automobile proper and it was agreed that Professor Snodgrass shouldhave one of these, the boys preferring to occupy the tent, in whichfour could sleep.
“Well, I guess I’ll turn in,” announced Bob, with a sleepy yawn, whentheir watches showed it was about nine o’clock. “We want to get anearly start in the morning.”
“Yes, now that dad has given us the chance to catch the cattle thieves,we don’t want to waste too much time on the road getting to the ranch,”agreed Ned. “No telling what may happen when we’re not there.”
The boys had been up early that morning making arrangements for thestart, and they were tired. So it did not take any of them long to dropoff to sleep once they had stretched out. Professor Snodgrass saidhe would stay up a little longer on the chance of gathering some rarenight-flying insect, but as he could get to his bunk through the frontentrance of the automobile he would not disturb the boys.
Along about the middle of the night, Bob, who slept near the outerentrance to the tent, was awakened by feeling some heavy object fallacross him, while a voice cried in his ear:
“I’ve got him!”
Only half awake the stout lad gave a yell.
“Grab ’em, boys! Grab ’em!” he shouted. “Cattle thieves! Grab ’em andhold ’em for the sheriff!”
“For the love of porous plasters!” exclaimed Jerry, sitting on his cot.“What is it?”
“Bob has the nightmare,” suggested Ned, disgustedly.
But as Jerry switched on the little flashlight near the head of his bedthe gleam revealed Professor Snodgrass just arising from where he hadfallen across Bob, and on the face of the little scientist was a lookof triumph.
“I’ve got him!” he cried, holding up a hand which clutched the folds ofa small net. “It’s the big white moth I’ve been after, and which I satup all night to get! I caught him!”
“Oh, I thought you meant you had me!” exclaimed Bob. “It’s all right.No damage done. Guess I must have been dreaming we were out on theranch after the rustlers.”
“It sounded that way,” commented Jerry with a cheerful grin.
“I’m sorry I disturbed you,” apologized the professor. “I was roamingabout outside your tent when I saw this moth alight near the entrance.I didn’t want to miss it, so I made a jump for it, and I suppose I wentright on through.”
“Like a fullback going through tackle for a touchdown,” commented Bob.“But there’s no harm done, Professor.”
To any one else the scientist’s actions would, perhaps, have beensurprising. But the boys knew his anxiety to get a rare specimen wouldcause him to do almost anything. The call of science never was unheededby Professor Snodgrass.
He apologized to the boys f
or disturbing them, but they made light ofthe matter, for he was such a good friend and such jolly company inspite of the fact that he was much older than they that they would havedone almost anything in the world for him.
Exulting over the prize he had caught, the scientist was content now toretire, and the camp was soon quiet again.
All were up early the next morning, Ned and Jerry being awakened by thearomatic odor of coffee and bacon. They looked out and saw Bob engagedin the preparation of the breakfast at a fire he had kindled.
“Happy New Year!” he called to them as they stuck their heads out ofthe tent. “Come on! Seven o’clock whistle blew long ago.”
Seldom had a breakfast tasted better, they all agreed, and thus wellfortified they again took up their journey.
“Looks like rain,” commented Ned at the wheel, after they had haddinner and saw, with satisfaction, that they had made good progress.
“So it does,” agreed Jerry, with a glance at the clouds. “But it takesmore than rain to stop us. We’ll keep on.”
The automobile was well adapted for traveling through a storm, forit could be enclosed completely. It began to drizzle shortly afterNed’s remark, and this soon turned into a regular downpour. They werein a comparatively untraveled section of the country, and were a bituncertain what road to take when they came to a fork. A man drivinga wagon came along in the midst of their indecision, however, andanswered their inquiry by saying:
“Both roads go to Falkenburg, but the right’s the shortest.”
“Then we’ll take that,” decided Ned, and once more they were underway. But the shortest way is not always the best, and they had notproceeded more than a mile before they ran into a stretch of sticky,greasy clay on which the car at once began to skid.
“Better put the tire chains on,” suggested Jerry.
Ned, who was steering, hesitated. It was no pleasant undertaking in thedownpour.
“I think this bad stretch comes to an end a little farther on,” hesaid. “I’ll chance it.”
“Drive slow, then,” warned Jerry.
Ned cut down his power and the car proceeded. But it skidded worsethan ever and Ned was on the point of stopping to get out and adjustthe chains when, with a suddenness that none foresaw, the big vehicleswerved to one side as the brakes were applied and, a moment later,the left rear wheel crashed hard against a big tree at the side ofthe road. There was a sound of splintering wood and the rear of theautomobile sank down.
“Busted!” cried Jerry as he opened the side curtains.