Part 8 (1/2)
”I don't believe the better cla.s.s of fellows at the military academy will take to those chaps.”
”Neither do I. But there are some mean boys at that school--you remember them--and Merwell and Jasniff will flock with that bunch. Oh, they'll try their best to down us, you see if they don't!” declared Dave.
On the road beyond the picnic ground they came to a spot where some rocks and logs had been piled up and then taken away again. All gazed at the spot with interest.
”I guess Pete Barnaby did this--under directions from Nat Poole,” said Ben.
”Yes, and Jed Sully made him, or the Poole crowd, clear it away again,”
answered Dave. ”They'll not close this road as long as Sully is roadmaster.”
”Be on your guard, Dave!” sang out Roger. ”Those rascals will play some trick on us, if they can.”
”I'm on the watch!” answered Dave.
As they bowled along all kept their eyes on the alert, and it was well that they did so, for at a turn they suddenly came upon some broken bottles thrown down just where the machines had to pa.s.s. Dave gave a yell of warning, and turned off the power and applied the brakes just in time, and, as before, Roger had to turn into the bushes, to avoid 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 gla.s.s 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 gla.s.s 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 gla.s.s, 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 n.o.body--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 pa.s.sed 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.