Fred Fenton Marathon Runner: The Great Race at Riverport School
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"For my part," said Fred, bluntly, "I can't explain it. How about you,
Colon?"
"Yes, how is that, Colon?" Bristles hastened to add, as if to lend weight to the sudden demand.
"Me? What should I know about a groan, except that I happened to be the first one to notice the same, and thought it was rats fighting?" Colon expostulated.
"Well, for one thing," Fred told him, "we happen to know that some time ago you had a strong notion you could throw your voice, like the fellow on the stage who makes the dummies in the trunk talk, and say funny things. And it struck me that perhaps you might be trying it out on the dog, meaning your good and faithful chums."
That aroused Colon as few other things might have done.
"Give you my word of honor, Fred, I never thought of such a thing," he said, in the most tragic of ways. "You c'n put your ear close to my mouth, and wait till it sounds again, when you'll find I haven't got any hand in that grunting. Maybe it's a poor pig that's half drowned by the rain coming into its pen near by."
"I know how hogs grunt," Fred told him, "and it wasn't along that line at all. This must be a human being in pain!"
"Whew! if we don't just strike queer happenings wherever we go!" declared Bristles, though from his wide-awake manner it was evident that he did not feel at all averse to these lively episodes coming right along, but rather enjoyed the excitement they brought in their train.
"We ought to do something, oughtn't we, Fred?" asked Sid. "If it did turn out there was a sick man in this old shook, and we learned later that he'd died for want of a little attention, we'd feel mighty sorry."
"First of all, back out, everybody," said Fred. "Then once clear of the mow, we can talk it over, and lay some sort of plan. Push along there, Bristles, you're blocking the line of retreat."
Of course Bristles would not stand for this, and so he began to back out, following the line of least resistance, which in this case was the tunnel by means of which they had crept under the haymow.
Once free and clear, the four runners clustered together, and proceeded to listen attentively again, almost holding their breath in the effort to locate the sound that had startled them so.
"There it is, boys!" exclaimed Fred.
"And louder than before," added Colon, "though that may be caused by our coming out from under the hay."
"No, we're certainly closer to it than before," Fred affirmed, "and that proves it to be over this way."
He started slowly forward. The others followed, it is true, but strangely enough not one of them seemed overly anxious to outdistance Fred, and occupy the position of leader.
It quickly became patent that Fred was right when he said the sound came from that end of the old barn, because, as they continued to advance slowly they could hear it louder and louder. The rain had dropped to a mere drizzle, showing that the storm was about to cease shortly, possibly with the same speed that had marked its opening. As the big drops ceased pattering like hail on the roof, sending many a little rivulet through the holes, they could hear much more easily.
"I see something, Fred!" whispered Colon, in a hoarse tone.
He pointed with a trembling finger as he spoke, and directed by this sign-post all of the other boys were able to distinguish an object that seemed to be extended on the hay.
"Looks like a man or a boy!" gasped Bristles.
"I think it is a well-grown boy!" Fred declared. "And now let's find out what ails him, that he keeps on groaning like that."
He held back no longer, but made straight for the object that had caught their attention. As they came up, all of them could see plainly enough that it was a human being, a fairly well-grown boy, who was lying there on his face.
With every breath he seemed to groan, more or less, and occasionally this would rise to a louder key. This latter was the sound that had reached them while they were under the haymow.
Now Fred was bending over the recumbent figure. Gently but firmly he started to turn it over, when a yell broke out.
"My leg! Oh! my leg's broke all to splinters!" they heard the unknown shriek. Then he seemed to shut his teeth hard together, as though determined that not another cry should leave his lips if he died for it.
Fred had always taken more or less interest in matters pertaining to surgery, at least as far as it is desirable that a boy should dabble in such things. He had borrowed many books from Dr. Temple, and on two occasions had set a broken arm in a fashion that won him words of praise from the physician.
"Let me take a look at your leg, please," he said, soothingly, as he bent down over the half-grown boy, who might be the hand about the poor farm, for he looked thin, and illy nourished, as far as Fred could see at a glance. "Perhaps I can be of some assistance to you, poor fellow. I know a little about setting bones, and such things. And we promise to stay with you, and do what we can to help."
He proceeded to make an examination without any delay or squeamishness. The result was that he discovered a serious fracture of both bones of the leg. Fortunately the break was some inches above the ankle, and if properly attended to, would not result in any permanent injury.
Fred did all that was possible under such conditions, while his three chums hovered near, ready to lend a hand whenever he asked it. The injured boy cried out and moaned a number of times during the time Fred was working, but after Fred had made the rudest kind of a splint, and wrapped the leg with some rags torn from an old linen fly-net that was hanging from a hook near by, the wounded lad admitted that he felt a "heap better."
For the first time Fred began to take notice of him other than as a patient. He found that the boy kept his head lowered, as though endeavoring to avoid curious eyes, and Fred wondered why this should be so, when they had certainly proven themselves to be very good friends of his.
The mystery was, however, soon explained, when Colon was heard to give utterance to a sudden exclamation, and cry out:
"Why, what's this? I've sure met this chap before, or my name isn't Colon. It's Tom Flanders, don't you see, Bristles? He's been gone from home a long while now, and his folks didn't know what'd come of him, and to think that he's been working on this measly little old farm in the bush here all the time."
Fred became intensely interested in his patient. He had not happened to know the Tom Flanders mentioned, but then he had heard more or less about him. It was easy enough now to know why the other was so embarrassed. He had been hiding from everybody, no doubt working here under another name, and hearing not a word as to how affairs in Riverport were progressing.
"Are you Tom Flanders?" he asked the other, quickly.
The wounded boy had turned white and then red several times under the flow of fear, distress and other emotions. He now looked into Fred's eyes boldly.
"I s'pose it ain't no use in denyin' that same, because Bristles Carpenter and Colon here know me," he went on to say, doggedly, after drawing a long breath. "Might as well own up anyway, 'cause I reckon I'm goin' to die. They can't send a dying boy to the Reform School, can they?"
"Have you been working here at this place ever since you disappeared from
Riverport?" asked Bristles.
"Jest about all the time, and gettin' nigh starved in the bargain, 'case they ain't got enough here to feed us," the boy replied, dejectedly.
"First of all," said Fred, "get that idea out of your head that you're going to die, just because of a plain fractured leg. In a month from now you'll be walking around again, and before three months are gone, you wouldn't know anything had ever happened to you."
"That's right kind o' you to say such nice things, mister," Tom Flanders muttered, "but a feller that's headed straight for the Reform School ain't carin' much whether he lives or dies."
Fred looked around at his three chums.
"We'd better tell him, hadn't we?" he asked, in a whisper.
"Sure, the poor fellow's suffered enough as it is, I reckon," Bristles replied.
"Just what I say too," added Colon.
"So go ahead, Fred, and open his eyes. I only hope it'll be a lesson he'll never forget, and start him along a different road after this," Sid gave as his opinion.
"Look here, Tom," began Fred, "you've been hiding-out for weeks now, and all the time believing that they'd send you to the electric chair or the Reform School at any rate, just because you deliberately shoved that little Willie Brandon into the river, and it looked as if he had been drowned. But Tom, they worked over him long enough to bring him back to life again. You ran away before anyone could tell you, and your folks have been nearly crazy trying to find you. Tom, you can come home again, and nobody's going to punish you. It's all right, Tom, and we'll see that you get to where your folks can have you, before to-night!"
The wretched boy looked at Fred for a full minute as though he could hardly believe the glad tidings; then he began to cry like a baby.
CHAPTER XX
WHEN THE CIRCUS CAME TO RIVERPORT
"You'll go home if we can get you there, won't you, Tom?" asked Fred, after a little time had clasped, and the poor fellow on the hay seemed better able to reply, having mastered his emotions.
"I'd be a fool not to say yes!" he exclaimed, eagerly. "'Specially when you tell me my folks they want me home again. I've lived a dog's life ever since I run away. Hain't never dared to ask about news from Riverport, 'case I reckoned Chief Sutton he must be alookin' everywhere for me. I'll go home, and thank you, fellers; you jest better b'lieve I will!"
That settled one thing; Fred knew he could not expect to finish that run. Indeed, the roads were not in the best of condition after the storm for anything like comfort, and perhaps it might be just as well for them all to give up trying to foot it along the rest of the course.
Having hastily considered this matter, he broached the subject to the others.
"Let's look at the thing, boys," he began, as they gathered around him, knowing that a plan of campaign was being considered. "What we wanted most of all was to get familiar with this cut-off up here."
"No trouble about the rest of the route," ventured Colon, "because it's going to be along the open roads, and every fellow can get it down pat from studying the map they've posted. But this cut-off is left blank."
"Meaning that you can go all the way around, making three miles, or else take your chance in cutting across country," Bristles added.
"Well, my plan is something like this," continued Fred. "Let's pick out the first good afternoon next week, get a car from somewhere, if we can borrow one, and run up here. Then we can cross over to the toll-gate, and back again. That ought to fix things so we'll never miss the way when the big date comes along."
"Hear! hear!" cried Bristles.
"We like your plan, Fred," replied Sid, "and for one I'm ready to call this run off. The weather is against us, and we'd have a high old time splattering through the mud for about thirteen miles."
"Besides," added Colon, "we think we ought to be along when you take Tom Flanders home to his folks. I happen to know how bad they've felt about his being gone!"
That seemed to settle the matter in so far as continuing the trial spin went. Fred was not sorry, because he felt that he would enjoy having his cheery chums along with him.
"Then the next question is, how we're going to get home?" and he turned to the injured boy, to say; "You haven't told us just how you came to break your leg, Tom, and why you didn't manage to crawl to the house so as to get help?"
"I knowed the old man an' his wife they was all away to-day, that's why," was the reply Tom made; "an' as for my accident, it happened so quick I couldn't hardly tell about it. Reckon I ketched my foot in some loose board up in that leetle loft, where I was adoin' somethin'. Fust thing I knowed I felt myself flyin' every which way, over the edge, and kim down on the ground, with my leg doubled under me. Then I jest seen things aswimmin' all around me. Guess I fainted, for next thing was when I kim to, an' found myself groanin' bad. When I moved ever so little it nigh made me jest scream."
"How long do you suppose you've been lying here?" asked Bristles, softly, for he had been much affected by what he saw and heard.
"Mebbe hours, for all I know, Bristles. They went off jest after daylight, meanin' to take the load to Peyton, where they deals in the grocery line. Wouldn't let me do it, 'case they meant to buy the old woman a 'frock, you see. Is it near night time, now, Bristles?"
"Oh! no, the morning isn't more than half over, Tom," replied Bristles.
"But how about some sort of rig we could borrow, to give you a lift to
Riverport? Have the old couple taken the only outfit along. Tom?"
"I hear a horse munching hay over there somewhere," announced Colon.
"Yes, there is a critter in here," Tom admitted, with the nearest approach to a smile that had thus far come upon his wan and pain-racked face; "and under the shed stands what you might call a wagon, if you shut your eyes, an' didn't care much what you was asayin'. If old Dominick didn't keel over, and kick the bucket on the way, he might pull us ten miles or so; always providin' you give him some oats before you started him, and then kept temptin' him on the road with more of the same."
Bristles gave a shout.
"Oh! we'll fix old Dominick, never you fear, Tom. I'll look up the oats right away, and let him get busy, while the rest of you pull that wagon out of the shed, and find something in the way of harness. We don't care a red cent for looks, as long as we get there. The end justifies the means. You remember we learned that lots of times at school. Get a move on, boys; everyone to his duty!"
Thus inspired, and spurred on, the others hastened to do their part. Two of them hunted until they found the lean-to, under which a ramshackle wagon stood that excited the laughter of Colon.
"If Bristles thought the vehicle that little girl had along with her in Riverport was a terror, what'll he ever say to this?" he remarked, after he had doubled up several times in explosive merriment. "Now, if the hoss is anything like what Tom says, I c'n see what a sensation we'll kick up when we strike town. Why, they'll ring the fire bells, and get the chemical engine out to parade after us. Guess they'll think the circus has struck Riverport early this year."
Meanwhile Bristles had succeeded in discovering a small amount of oats in a bin, and he emptied a generous lot of these in the trough of the antiquated looking horse. The animal had started whinnying the instant he heard the boy moving over in that corner, where he must have known the grain was kept, though he seldom had more than a handful at a time.
It was a whole hour before they managed to get the rig fixed up. Indeed, only by the united efforts of all the boys was the bony horse dragged away from his feed trough, where he had kept munching the oats delightedly.
Then they hunted up all the old horse blankets, and empty gunny-sacks they could find about the place, and made a soft bed in the wagon. A stretcher was also improvised from some boards, and when four of them took hold they managed to carry poor Tom to the nearby vehicle, and deposit him on the sacks.
Being guided by directions which Tom gave them, they found how a road wound through the woods to the road, striking the main thoroughfare just above where they had come out on their previous trip, and with the toll-gate in sight.
"Here's where we gain something, boys," Fred told them, "and this Good
Samaritan job may count in our favor next week when we make that run."
Fred had been thoughtful enough to write a little note, addressed to the owner of the wretched outfit, whose name it seemed was Ezekial Parsons. In it he explained just how they happened to find poor Tom, and that they had borrowed the rig to get him to his home, where he could have proper care.
He had also promised that the horse and wagon should be returned in due time, and hinted that his father and mother might be expected to run up and make the acquaintance of the old couple who had been so kind to Tom, although not really able to keep a hand about the place.
The man at the toll-gate stared, as well he might, when that antiquated rig came in sight, with the four boys partly bundled in faded horse blankets and gunny-sacks. The weather had not yet cleared, and the air was chilly for fellows as devoid of clothing as runners always are.
When he heard about the accident that had happened to Tom, he was loud in his praise of the action of the boys in giving up their trial spin just to get the injured boy home.
"If I had a hoss myself, I'd gladly loan him to you, boys," he told them.
"Oh! never fear but we'll be able to get there before sun-down," laughingly declared Fred, while Bristles ran around in front, and held the measure of oats close to the nose of the horse, starting him to snorting wildly, and taking a step forward in the effort to obtain the feed, kept so tantalizingly just beyond his reach.
Bristles continued backing away, and always keeping just so far in front, so that the horse was impelled to move along quite briskly. If he lagged at any time the measure was moved closer, and once Bristles even let him thrust his nose into it.
On the wagon the boys had a very merry time of it, singing, and laughing at the actions of the poor old horse.
"Please don't excite him too much, Bristles," begged Sid, "for he's likely to strain so he'll smash this beautiful harness all to flinders."
So they kept up the work, Bristles and Colon between them dancing on ahead, and tempting the animal between the shafts to renewed exertions. With that measure of oats held within smelling distance of his nose he kept plodding steadily along, and mile after mile was placed in their rear.
Once they halted, and watered old Dominick at a wayside spring, besides letting him have a delightful five-minute communion with the oat crop. Then the forward movement was begun, again, and the boy who held the measure of oats continued to dance just ahead of the deluded Dominick.
It was about two o'clock on that Saturday afternoon when a great commotion broke out in the outskirts of Riverport. Boys and girls flocked to the spot, and loud cheers rent the air. Indeed, plenty of people actually made sure that the circus must have arrived ahead of time, and as this was an event in which every citizen was supposed to be interested, since he would be compelled to take his youngsters to the show, plenty of men were in the throng that gathered.
Dogs barked, chickens set up a cackling and crowing, and there was a perfect Bedlam of sounds along the main street. Down this came that wonderful vehicle with sundry creaks and dismal groanings, as though threatening to break down at any minute. Ahead strode a boy in running costume, tempting the tired old horse to walk along by holding a peck measure under his nose, and occasionally just letting him snap up a few of the oats.
Three other fellows sat in the wagon some of them trying to keep warm by covering themselves with gunny-sacks, and all laughing, and joining in the cheers of the crowd.
Of course everybody thought it was only a boyish prank, but when they saw the old wagon draw up in front of the Flanders home, and then those four boys start to gently lift a figure out from the bed of the vehicle, the noise ceased as if by magic.
"Why, it's sure enough Tom Flanders come back home, after his folks had given him up for lost!" one good woman told a new arrival. "They do say Fred and the running boys found him up-country, where he'd broke his leg. Poor fellow, he looks that peaked and pale I reckon he's had a terrible time. And see how his maw hangs over him, like she was the happiest woman in all Riverport this day. And we all hope that Tom'll turn over a new leaf after this, and make his folks proud of him. But wasn't it fine of Fred and his friends to bring him home that way?"
And certainly, when those four lads witnessed the wild delight of that mother and father at having their only son restored to them again, as well as noted how the erring boy cried when he allowed himself to be carried into the house, none of them had the slightest reason to regret that circumstances had caused them to take refuge from the storm in that old barn standing near the trail through the woods.
CHAPTER XXI
THE GREATEST OF DAYS
When the day set for the great Marathon race came around, everybody in Riverport agreed that the weather clerk had certainly outdone himself in order to give the runners an ideal occasion. There was not a cloud in the sky. Then, while the air was sparkling and inclined to be cool, the breeze was not so strong that it would make running difficult.
Early in the day crowds began to arrive from the two neighboring towns. They came in all manner of conveyances, from farm wagons to the finest of automobiles. Music could be heard in the air, for the Riverport Brass Band had decided to honor the great occasion by playing at intervals all day long.
Ample preparations had been made for seeing the grand finish, which, as with the start, was to take place on the great level commons bordering the town, and alongside of which the main road ran.
Here a grand stand had been erected for the use of the honored guests from Mechanicsburg and Paulding, as well as several other smaller places, each of which was also sending its quota of eager eyed strong-lunged boys to root for their favorite team.
The race was scheduled to start at exactly one o'clock. This had been settled on as the best hour, since it would allow everybody who expected to be present to reach town, and also give the runners plenty of time to cover the course.
No doubt that morning dragged along worse than any boy in Riverport had ever known time to drag before. They wandered back and forth in droves, all excited, and anxious to hear the latest reports concerning the condition of those who were expected to compete.
Several startling rumors were circulated. One was to the effect that Colon had been taken with cholera morbus in the night, and was a complete wreck that morning, which would eliminate him from the race. Another went on to tell how Fred Fenton had cut his foot, when chopping wood just to keep himself in condition, and it would be utterly out of the question for him to enter the competition.
These things gave the loyal rooters for Riverport a terrible shock, and messengers were instantly dispatched to the homes of the two heroes to ascertain whether there could be any truth in the wild rumors. When they came back and reported that both Fred and Colon were in the pink of condition, and simply taking things easy so as not to tire themselves out before the time, the shouts that arose caused people to rush to their doors and windows, wondering if the race had been prematurely started.
Still the crowds kept pouring into Riverport, until the streets became fairly congested with the throngs. Business, except for feeding this vast multitude, and selling them little flags and buttons, seemed to be absolutely suspended, so that many stores were shut up at noon, not to be opened again until the question of supremacy had been fully settled.
Fred had not forgotten to get that forlorn rig back to the owners, and in so doing he had had occasion to make the acquaintance of the old couple. His father and mother drove up that very Sunday afternoon, and from what Fred heard them say after returning, he felt sure that things were going to improve very much with the Parsons. Mrs. Fenton expected to get a number of her friends interested in some fancy work she had examined, and there were numerous other ways by means of which the couple could be assisted without allowing them to feel that they were objects of charity to the community.
Of course the four boys had managed to secure a car, by means of which they ran up on Wednesday afternoon after school hours. There was time enough before the shadows began to gather for them to go over the cut-off several times. They examined every foot of the way, and just as Fred had said, it was found that by following the obscure road that led from the Parsons farm to the main highway above the toll-gate, they could save at least seven precious minutes.