Dave Porter and His Rivals: or, The Chums and Foes of Oak Hall. Stratemeyer Edward
striking the turnout ahead.
"They thought they'd make us cut our tires," said Dave.
"Right you are," answered Phil. "Phew! If we had gone over that glass we might have had some nasty punctures or blow-outs."
"They ought to be arrested for this!" said Sam, wrathfully. "It's against the law to put glass on a public highway."
"We can't prove they did it," answered Ben. "If we accused them, of course they would deny it. But it shows their meanness."
The boys got out and picked up some of the glass, and swept the rest aside as well as they could. Then the machines were started up once more, and soon they came in sight of the Hook Stock Farm, and Dave beckoned to a man who stood near the gateway.
"Have you lost one of your bulls?" he asked.
"We sure have!" answered the man, quickly. "What do you know about him?"
"We know he tried to run off with our autos," returned Dave, with a grin, and then told the man the story, and described where the animal could be found. While he was speaking two other stock farm hands came up. They had been looking for the bull since early morning.
"He's a valuable beast," said one of the men. "I hope he ain't hurt none."
"He isn't hurt – and we are mighty glad he didn't hurt us," said Phil.
"Oh, he won't hurt nobody – if he's left alone," said the man.
"How can he hurt anybody, if he is left alone?" was Roger's dry query. But the man was too dull to see the joke.
From the stock farm hands, the boys found out which were the best roads to take, and then passed on again, up hill and down dale for a distance of six miles, when they came out on a broad and well-kept highway.
"Good! This is what I like!" cried Dave, and turned on the power until the touring car was moving along at a lively rate. Roger "hit her up," as he called it, also, and before long they had covered an additional ten miles. Then they had to go over a hill, beyond which lay the village of Lester.
"Let us stop at Lester for some ice-cream soda," whispered Phil to Dave, and the latter agreed.
At the foot of the hill there was a turn, and Dave slowed up to make this, and Roger did likewise. Then, as they passed a deep and muddy ditch, Dave gave a cry and came to a stop.
"Look there!" he called out, pointing down into the ditch.
All gazed to where he pointed. There, in the water and mud, rested the racing car belonging to Pete Barnaby. And standing in the mud up to his knees was the sporty man himself, looking the picture of woeful despair.
CHAPTER VI
A TALK WITH AARON POOLE
As the boys halted their touring cars and gazed at the racing car and its owner, they could not help but smile, and Phil laughed outright.
"How did it happen?" asked Dave, in as kindly a tone as he could assume, for he saw that Pete Barnaby was in serious trouble. The turnout had landed in a particularly soft spot, and was settling deeper and deeper every minute.
"None of your business!" growled the sporty man, wrathfully.
"Oh, all right!" returned Dave, coldly. "I thought maybe you would want us to help you."
"Precious little help I'd get from you chaps!" grumbled Pete Barnaby.
"You might get some if you would act half civil," answered Dave.
"Humph! I suppose you want me to ask you to help me, so that you can have the pleasure of refusing me, eh?"
"No, if I can aid you I will," answered Dave, promptly.
"He doesn't deserve any help," whispered Phil.
"I know that, Phil," answered Dave. "But I'd hate to leave him in the lurch. Why, that machine may sink so deep nobody could get it out."
"If you'll haul me out I'll pay you for your trouble," said Pete Barnaby, gruffly. "It's an easy way to earn ten dollars."
"I don't want your money," replied Dave. "I'll do what I can."
"So will I," added Roger. "The two machines together ought to be able to do the trick."
"Do you really mean it?" asked the sporty man, and now his voice had a ring of hope in it.
"Yes," said the senator's son, and Dave nodded.
The boys got out, and from the three cars ropes were produced and tied together, and the two touring cars were hooked one in front of the other, and then made fast to the racing car.
"Don't haul too hard at the start," begged Pete Barnaby. "If you do you may pull my car apart."
"We'll be careful," answered Dave. He turned to his chum. "Remember, Roger, we've got eighty horse-power hooked up here."
"I'll be on my guard," answered the senator's son. "But remember," he added to Pete Barnaby, "we are not to be responsible if the hauling breaks your car."
"I'll run that risk – only go slow," answered the man in trouble.
The rope had been made as long as possible, so that the stalled car could be drawn out of the ditch lengthwise instead of sidewise. The two cars in the road started up on low speed, and gradually the rope grew taut.
"Look out, everybody, in case that rope snaps!" cried Ben. "I once heard of a rope like that snapping and killing a house-mover."
"You are cheerful, I must say," was Sam's dry comment. Nevertheless, all were on their guard as the rope grew as tight as a string on a bow.
"She ain't moving yet!" cried Pete Barnaby. He stood by the side of his machine watching the rope closely.
Hardly had he spoken when there came a slow, sucking sound, as the wheels left their bed of soft mud. Then the racing machine moved forward slowly.
"Hurrah! she's coming!" cried Sam. "Put on a little more steam and you'll have her!"
Dave and Roger turned on more power, and the racing machine continued to move. Soon it was at the edge of the ditch, and then, with something of a jerk, it came up on the roadway, leaving a trail of dirty water and slimy mud behind it.
"Say, you did it all right enough!" cried Pete Barnaby, in delight. "I was afraid she was too deep down to budge."
"She would have been too deep if you had left her there very much longer," answered Dave. "Now, if you'll untie those ropes and clean them off for us, we'll be on our way again."
"Sure, I'll clean them off." And the sporty man set to work with alacrity. "Say, don't you really want me to pay you for this?" And he made a move as if to draw a roll of bills from his pocket.
"I don't want a cent," answered Dave.
"It's all right," added Roger; "only, Mr. Barnaby, I'd advise you after this not to stand in with Nat Poole and his crowd."
"I'm sorry I did, now; honest I am," was the sporty man's answer. "I – er – I only did it as a favor for Nat, because his father is holding one of my notes. How did you make out after I went away? I see you must have got through."
"We did," replied Dave, and then mentioned how Jed Sully had come to their aid. At this news Pete Barnaby began to grin.
"It was sure a neat way of turning the trick," he said, "and seeing how you young gentlemen have helped me, I'm glad you did it. You can be sure I'll never lay a straw in your way again, never!" And then, the ropes having been put away, the two touring cars proceeded on their way once more, leaving Pete Barnaby to clean up his machine and put it in running order again.
"Dave, that was a real nice thing to do!" declared Jessie, and gave him a bright look.
"He must have felt awfully small, for you to be so generous after the way he acted," was Laura's comment.
"Maybe it will be a lesson to him, to do what is square in the future," said Belle.
They were soon in the town of Lester, and there stopped at the main drug store, where the boys treated the girls to ice-cream "sundaes," as they are sometimes called.