The Motor Boys Overland | Page 4

the mass of hay. He pulled several wisps from his hair and then saw the boys.
"Did you shoot right through the pile and come out on the other side?" he asked.
"We ran around it," explained Bob. "We beat you," he added, not without pride.
"So I see. It came pretty near being the end of all of us. You're a plucky lad. I don't mind being beaten by you. I thought I had a good car, but yours is better."
"Ours is much lighter; I guess that's why we went ahead," returned Jerry, willing to concede something to a vanquished rival. "But are you hurt?"
The man carefully felt of different parts of his body. Then he took off his goggles and looked over as much as he could see of himself.
"I don't seem to be," he said, finally, with a laugh. "It was like falling into a feather bed to land in that hay-pile the way I did. That's all that saved me. I wonder how my machine stood the emergency brake."
He examined his car carefully, and was apparently satisfied that no injury had been done by the sudden stopping of it.
"Where is he?" asked the farmer, suddenly appearing from behind the hay. "Is he dead?" And then he seemed to realize his error and joined in the laugh that followed.
"No, I'm not dead yet," replied the owner of the green car. "Well," he went on, "I must be going. Are you boys coming along? If you are, no more races."
"We'll have to go back to Cresville," answered Bob. "We promised to return for supper."
The man bade the boys good-by and soon the big, green dragon was throbbing down the road in a cloud of dust. The boys, finding they could not help the farmer in his trouble, got in their machine and, promising to send help from the first farmhouse they passed, they left the owner of the hay and were soon speeding toward Cresville.
"Isn't this glorious!" exclaimed Jerry, as the auto sped along. "I wish we could take a long trip."
"Why can't we?" asked Ned.
"We talked of a tour when we found we had a chance to get a car," put in Chunky. "I for one would like to go out West."
"Ho for the West!" piped up Andy. "Over the plains -- herds of cattle -- cowboys in chase -- rattlesnakes and horned toads -- sandy deserts -- Indians -- bang! Shoot 'em up! Lots of excitement -- take me along -- whoop!"
"Easy!" pleaded Jerry. "One thing at a time, Andy. Haven't we had excitement enough for one day?"
"We ought to make a strike to go on a western trip, though," spoke Ned, in serious tones. "Here we have a car that we could cross the continent in. Let's speak about it at home. It can't do any harm. Maybe the folks will let us go."
"It's worth trying for," said Jerry. "What do you say, Chunky?"
"I'm with you," replied Bob. "It will be the best sport ever. But wouldn't we have to wait until next spring? It's fall, and if we go West it may be very cold, with lots of snow soon."
"We can bear off to the south," said Jerry.
"Sure enough," agreed Chunky.
That night, when the automobile had been safely put away in the barn at Bob's house, three anxious boys broached the subject to their respective parents. So insistent were they that it was not long before a general council was arranged. Mrs. Hopkins and Mr. Slade were induced to call at Mr. Baker's house, where, with the three boys, the whole subject was gone over.
"I'm afraid it's too much of an undertaking, said Mr. Baker.
"That's my idea " agreed Mr. Slade, and Mrs. Hopkins nodded to indicate that that was her view.
The boys set up a chorus of pleadings. The parents had many objections. The distance was too great, the boys did not know enough about automobiles, they would lose their way and break down far from help. In fact, so many negative reasons were given that it looked as if the plan would not go through.
"Will you please wait ten minutes before you make a final decision?" asked Jerry, appealing to the trio of parents.
They agreed, wondering what he was about to do. Jerry got his hat and hurried from Mr. Baker's house. In a little while he returned, all out of breath.
"He'll be here in five minutes," said the boy.
"Who?" asked Mr. Slade.
"Mr. Wakefield." Jerry referred to Horace Wakefield, an instructor at the Athletic Club, who was quite a friend of the boys, and who himself had recently purchased an automobile. He lived near Mr. Baker.
"What's all this I hear about a trip to the West these boys are going to take?" asked Mr. Wakefield, a few minutes later, coming into the parlor where the