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The Chums of Scranton High on the Cinder Path by Donald Ferguson

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But Hugh chuckled when he saw Claude give a quick look up at his
mother, as if to make, certain she was not looking; after which he
leaned forward and stared hard and eagerly at the wonderful picture
that athletic field presented. Hugh had good eyesight, and he could
detect the longing expression in the effeminate features of the boy
whose mother seemed bent on making him a weakling and a "sissy."

"Poor Claude, I certainly do pity you," Hugh was telling himself as
the big car rolled on amidst a cloud of dust. "Deep down in your
heart you are yearning to be as other natural boys are, who have red
blood in their veins. If your dad had lived I warrant there'd be a
different story to tell, because they say he liked all kinds of
healthy sport; but, somehow, Mrs. Jardine has taken a dislike to such
things that seems to keep growing stronger all the time, until it's
become a regular mania with her. But unless she changes her mind
there'll be a day coming when she'll bitterly regret it all. I
suppose now, if she had a daughter she'd prevent her from associating
with Sue, and Ivy, and Peggy, as well as all the other high-school
girls whose mothers actually allow them to go to dances with us boys,
and even cheer the Scranton players in a rattling good baseball game."

There was an air of feverish expectation rampant throughout the whole
town, and wherever young people got together the talk was of nothing
else save the great event on the programme for the next day. Even
many older persons seemed to have become infected with the sporting
virus, because memories of other days were being recalled; and it was
remarkable how many elderly men had once been deeply interested in
just such things, though, of course, along somewhat less modern lines.

Then again there was an undercurrent of talk that carried a thrill
along with it. Stories that could not be confirmed, but were
believed more or less, began to be circulated to the effect that some
irresponsible parties meant to start something during the tournament
that was calculated to bring disrepute upon the town of Scranton. It
was even darkly hinted that the partly built, new, wooden fence had
been set on fire as a lark; and squads of curious boys and girls even
circulated along its entire length, bent upon ascertaining if such a
thing could really be true.

When they failed to find any evidence of a fire, they were still
unconvinced; for, of course, it would be policy on the part of the
management to conceal all traces, so as to save the good name of the

These rumors could not be traced to any particular source, but there
are always a certain number of persons who delight to circulate such
stories, and, perhaps, unconsciously, add a little to the same with
each and every additional telling, until a trivial happening becomes
a colossal thing.

That the committee in general charge of the great undertaking
cherished some sort of fear that some daring outrage might be
attempted by boys who were not connected with the high school was
evident from the fact that they had had warning notices printed at
the office of the Weekly Courier, notifying all boys who might
contemplate playing any sort of practical joke during the holding of
the carnival that Chief Adolph Wambold, the head of the local police,
would have his entire force on the grounds, and such offenders would
be harshly treated, if detected.

The afternoon was well along when Hugh was approached by "Just"
Smith, one of the candidates who meant to try for the Marathon prize.

"Several of the boys are meaning to start off on that seven-mile
spin, Hugh," the other announced as he came up; "and they want you to
come along. We can start, together, and then separate, as we feel
disposed;" and, as this suited Hugh, he agreed.



There were four of them who made the start, Hugh, "Just" Smith,
Horatio Juggins, and "K. K.," the Kinkaid boy. Three of the bunch
had been fielders in the baseball nine that carried off the
championship pennant of the three-town high-school league the
preceding summer; and, having been known as great runners, it was
only natural that they had felt impelled to enter for the
long-distance race.

An equal number could be expected from both Allandale and Belleville,
so that with others who would feel disposed to, at least, be in at
the start, though calculating to fall out after a few miles had been
run, possibly a full score would toe the string at the time the great
Marathon was called.

In an event of this nature a big "field" adds to the excitement of
the occasion; and it is often noticed that those who have no
intention of finishing usually look the most confident during the
preparations for making the grand start. Well, they have no hope of
getting any fun out of the race after losing sight of the crowd, and
so they mean to take what they can beforehand.

Talking is almost tabooed during such a race, since every breath lost
in useless conversation saps so much energy. Even on a trial run Mr.
Leonard had advised the boys to separate as soon as possible, and
keep some distance apart, mostly to obviate this temptation to
exchange views; so that each candidate could conserve every atom of
his powers.

So it came about that by the time two miles had been run Hugh found
himself absolutely alone. Hugh had left the main thoroughfare, and
was passing along a byroad that would take him around through the
hilly country, until the Scranton turnpike was again reached.

The other fellows had the option of doing as Hugh did, or they could
continue on further, and, perhaps, get a lift back home on some
farmer's wagon, or possibly a car bound for Scranton. Hugh had an
idea, however, that one of them was coming along the same road a mile
or more behind, and that it would turn out to be "Just" Smith. Some
words the other chap had uttered when they were together before
starting forth on the run gave Hugh this impression, though he could
not be positive about it.

At the time, it gave him little concern; but then he could not look
into the immediate future, and see what it held for him. The coming
of "Just" Smith would yet turn out to be an event of the first
magnitude in Hugh's humble opinion; as the reader will soon learn.

Hugh was jogging along nicely, and had long ago caught his second
wind. He kept "tabs" upon himself, in order to know just how his
energy held out, and if he was likely to be in condition for the
gruelling finish that might become necessary, over the last half mile
of the long course, should a visiting runner threaten to head the
list with the goal in sight, and the thousands of eager spectators
bursting out with cheers calculated to thrill the heart, and give
fresh impetus to wearied limbs.

On the whole, Hugh felt fairly well satisfied with himself. He knew
he had gone about as fast as ordinary runners would care to travel,
who wished to conserve their strength toward the close of the race;
and that he was holding back a good reserve stock of energy. Yes, he
believed he was at his best, and if he failed to land the prize it
was because some fellow was a better runner than he could ever hope
to be.

Just then he heard a sound that gave him a sudden thrill. It was
like a faint human cry for help, uttered in a weak voice, and seemed
to come from his right.

Hugh stopped short.

His first inclination was to instantly dash from the road and
endeavor to discover what caused that cry. Then he had a wave of
suspicion dart over him. Could this be a sly trick on the part of
some enemy, meant to lure him into the brush and rocks, where he
could, perhaps, be overpowered? But Nick, as well as his two
satellites, Leon Disney and Tip Slavin, had been on the grounds at
the time Hugh started his run, for he had taken particular notice of
this fact; consequently, it was hardly likely that they could be
concerned in any practical joke; and certainly no other fellow would
be guilty of such a thing.

That decided Hugh. He left the road, and started toward the spot
where he judged that strange sound had welled forth. The country was
exceedingly rough just there, and he fancied that some sort of deep
gully, possibly a precipice, might lie off on his right, judging from
the aspect of the land.

Not hearing the sound again, Hugh uttered a loud hello. Then, as he
continued to press hastily forward, he once more caught the
beseeching cry. It had an agonizing strain to it, and Hugh could
plainly make out the words:

"Help! Oh! help! help!"

Someone was evidently in trouble, Hugh decided, accelerating his pace
as well as the conditions of the rough surface of the ground
permitted. He had taken pains to locate the cry this time, and was,
therefore, altering his course just a little.

Again he called, and once more received a reply, more fearful than

"Hurry! Oh! hurry, before it gives way, and I'm lost!"

It sounded more like the voice of a girl than anything else. Hugh
was thrilled at the bare thought of one of the opposite sex being
caught in a trap whereby life itself was imperiled.

He had been ascending all this time. From a single look, which he
cast over his shoulder, he could see the road he had lately come
along, trace its course, in fact, until it was lost at a bend half a
mile away.

He noted that a runner had just turned that same bend, and was
jogging along in a rhythmic, contented fashion, as though satisfied
with the progress he was making; although "Just" Smith would have to
speed up considerable on the morrow if he wished to be anywhere near
the head of the procession when the race neared its close. Hugh,
somehow, fixed the fact of his comrade's presence on his mind. He
even mentally figured just how long it was likely to take the other
to reach the spot where he himself had left the road; for, perhaps,
that circumstance might loom up large in his calculations.

Then he arrived at the brink of what seemed to be a precipice. The
presence of this told Hugh plainly the nature of the task that
awaited him. Someone had undoubtedly fallen over the brink, and was,
even then, hanging on desperately to some jutting rock or bush that
represented the only hope of safety from a serious fall. He threw
himself down and thrust his head out over the edge. What Hugh saw
was enough to give any boy a thrill of horror. Some ten feet below
the top a human figure sprawled, kicking with his legs in the
endeavor to find a brace for his feet. He was clinging to a bush
that seemed to be growing from the face of the precipice, and which
Hugh could see was slowly but surely giving way, one root after
another losing its grip in the soil and rocky crevices.

Hugh recognized the imperiled boy instantly, though utterly amazed at
his discovery; he could not understand for the life of him how Claude
Jardine, of all fellows in Scranton, could be placed in such a
dreadful predicament.

But Hugh did not waste a single precious second in trying to solve
that puzzle; it could be all made plain after he had managed to save
the poor chap.

"Stop kicking, and keep perfectly still, Claude!" he instantly called.

"But it's going to give way, and let me drop!" wailed the terrified

"It'll do that all the sooner if you keep moving as you are," Hugh
told him sharply, with the tone of authority that one accustomed to
command might use. "I'm coming down after you, so don't be afraid.
Can you hold on just ten seconds more?"

"I'll try to, but, oh! hurry, please!" came the trembling answer.

Already Hugh was passing over the edge. He took care not to make a
false movement, for the precipice was all of forty feet in depth, and
a fall on the rocks below was bound to be a serious matter.

To lower himself to where the imperiled boy clung he had to take
advantage of numerous projecting points of rock that offered him a
foothold, or a place where he could hang on with his hands. Hugh was
as nimble as any boy in Scranton, which fact proved of great
advantage to him just then. Had it been otherwise, he might have
himself fallen, and there would then have been a double tragedy.

Somehow, through Hugh's mind flashed the memory of how Claude's
doting mother had always, on every occasion, condemned all athletic
exercises that were intended to build up the muscles, and give new
power to the body. It seemed the irony of fate that the life of her
precious boy was now going to hang upon the ability of Hugh Morgan to
sustain himself, and the weight of another, there upon the face of
that rocky precipice! Perhaps in times to come Mrs. Jardine would
discover how false her ideas were, and experience a radical change of
heart. The opportunity which Hugh had once sighed for had come to
him in a most wonderful way.

He succeeded in making his way down in safety, though once he
slipped, and had a thrill of alarm pass over him. Now he found
himself alongside Claude. The boy's face was the color of ashes;
Hugh had never looked upon a corpse in all his life, but he could not
help comparing Claude's pallid countenance to one.

He was glancing around with the eye of a general who lets nothing, no
matter how trivial, escape him. Just a foot below Claude's dangling
toes there was a narrow ledge. If only both of them could find
lodgment upon this; and have some hold above for their hands, they
might maintain their position until Hugh's shouts attracted "Just"
Smith to the spot, and he could do something to aid them.

"Listen, Claude," he said earnestly. "There's a way to save you, if
only you keep your head about you. 'Just' Smith is coming along the
road, and I'll shout out to guide him here so he can help us."

"But--the bush is going to give way right off!" gasped the terrified

"Well, below us there's a ledge where we must plant our feet, and
hold on," continued Hugh, convincingly. "I'm going to drop down to
it now. Then you must try to lower yourself along the bush, inch by
inch, until you feel the ledge under you. Don't be afraid, because I
mean to grab hold of you; but when you feel me touching you, above
all things don't let go above, or you'll throw us both down. Now, be
ready, Claude; and, remember, it's going to be all right. Keep cool!"

Of course, Hugh only said that last to reassure the poor chap.
Claude was already cold with fear, as cold as an icicle, in fact; and
quaking with fear in the bargain.

It was easy enough for Hugh to drop down another foot or so, until he
felt the solid little ledge under him. Indeed, had it been
necessary, such an agile fellow very likely might have continued all
the way down to the base of the precipice.

His next move was to find a firm hold for his left hand, to which he
could continue to cling while he sustained much of the weight of the
other boy, after the weakened roots of the bush gave way entirely.

Claude was trying to do what he had been told, though in rather a
bungling fashion. Inch by inch he allowed the bush to slip through
his hands, looking down as well as he was able at the same time, in
order to ascertain just how near he might be to that same ledge Hugh
had told him of.



Hugh kept a watchful eye on that bush. He knew it was going to give
way presently, when, unless Claude had managed to secure a fresh grip
on some object with his poor scratched hands, he was likely to be
dashed downward.

Fortune was, however, kind in that respect, for there chanced to be a
nice projection of rock, somewhat in the shape of a horn, just in the
right place for Claude to seize upon, and which would help sustain
his weight. Hugh knew very well, though, that most of the burden
would fall upon him; and he, therefore, prepared to accept it.

"Here, reach out with your left hand, Claude, and take hold of this
rock. Your feet are both safely anchored on the ledge. Keep up your
grit, and everything will be all right yet. Do you understand what
I'm telling you, Claude?"

"Yes, I do, Hugh," chattered the other, for his teeth were rattling
together in a way that reminded Hugh of the "Bones" at the end of a
minstrel line; if he had ever seen a Spanish stage performance he
would have said they made a sound like castanets in the hands of the
senorita who gave the national Castilian dance.

Claude really managed to carry out that part of the task with a fair
amount of success. His other hand still gripped the bush, which
continued to gradually give way under the long and severe strain.

Hugh braced himself. He had taken as firm a hold as was possible,
and had his other arm thrown around Claude.

"Steady, now, Claude, it's almost gone. When you feel it give way,
try and make use of your right hand to find some other rocky point
where you can hold on. I think there's one such on the other side of
you. Above all, don't struggle, or you may throw me off my balance,
and then it's good-bye to both of us. Now, be ready!"

Hugh's calculations proved to be correct, for the bush gave way, and
fell with a clatter of small stones and loosened earth, down toward
the bottom of the steep declivity. Claude uttered a cry of dismay
when he felt his support gone; but luckily he gripped the rocky knob
with his left hand more convulsively than ever, while Hugh sustained
him to the best of his ability.

"That was well done, Claude," Hugh now told him, his main object
being to put a little more confidence in the other boy, and thus
lighten his own load. "We'll manage to cling here for a bit longer.
When I think 'Just' Smith is getting near by I'll let out a whoop
that is bound to fetch him to our assistance."

One, two, three minutes passed. It was very trying to Hugh, and
already his muscles began to feel the undue strain keenly. But he
gritted his teeth, and waited, as it would be only a waste of breath
and energy to shout before the next runner was close enough up to
locate the sound.

Claude was shivering as though he would shake to pieces. He had
received a dreadful fright, for a fact, and it was having its due
effect upon his never strong frame. What would his doting mamma
think, and say, Hugh told himself, almost with a chuckle of
amusement, could she see her darling then and there, and realize how
his very life depended upon the strong muscles and will to do things
that Hugh Morgan had developed in himself?

How slowly the seconds passed! Hugh was trying to count, so as to
judge when the Marathon runner would be likely to have covered that
half-mile, and be at the spot where he, Hugh, had left the road.

When, finally, the time had expired he again spoke to Claude.

"Don't be startled, Claude, because I'm going to shout out. Hang
tight, now!"

With that he sent out a whoop, and coupled it with the name of "Just"
Smith. There was no immediate response, but then Hugh had already
discounted this in his mind, remembering how he also had come to a
sudden stop, and listened as though unable to believe his ears.

Again he shouted, and once more uttered the name of the other boy.
This time there came a speedy reply.

"Hello! that you, Hugh?"

"Yes, and I want help right away!" answered the boy who clung there
with a burden on his hands. "Turn out of the road to the left, and
hurry here. I'm down a precipice, Just. Keep coming, and I'll guide
you all right."

So Hugh continued to utter loud shouts every dozen seconds or so. He
could catch the calls of the advancing runner, and knew from their
increasing loudness that he was gradually getting closer.

Then, looking up, he saw a head projected over the brink above. He
could easily understand how "Just" Smith's eyes must have almost
started from their sockets when discovering the dreadful position of
the pair below; and especially after he had recognized Claude
Jardine, the last fellow in the wide world whom he would have
expected to see in such a fix.

"H-h-how in the wide world did you get, down there, Hugh?" gasped the
boy who leaned over the brink.

"I came down after Claude here, who'd fallen over, and was hanging to
a bush that was giving way," explained Hugh. "And now it's up to you
to get us both out of this scrape, Just."

"Oh, if only I had a rope!" cried the other, apparently nonplussed.

"Well, wishes won't make one," said the practical Hugh; "and so we'll
have to do without. But if you look around sharply I think you'll
find a long pole there, for I remember noticing something of the

The boy above vanished for a brief period, which seemed ages to the
anxious Claude; and even Hugh counted the seconds, for the strain was
something serious. Then again that friendly head appeared in view.

"You were right, Hugh!" called the Smith boy; "there was such a pole
handy, and I've got the same right here now. It's plenty long enough
to reach down to you; but I'm wondering however I'll be able to draw
two of you up."

"I don't expect you to, all by yourself, Just," Huge told him. "Poke
the end of it down here, and keep a good stiff grip on the butt.
Then we'll hold on, and find places to set our feet. Inch by inch,
and foot by foot, we'll manage to climb up. You can help a little by
keeping the stick coming, you know."

"I get you, Hugh!" snapped the other eagerly; "and it's sure a right
good scheme. But be mighty careful you don't slip, either of you.
That fall'd break bones, even if it didn't kill you outright."

"Don't worry about us, Just Smith; pay attention to your part of the
contract, and things are bound to work out first-class. Lower away,
and don't poke us off our perch, please. We've only got a risky hold
below here."

So saying, Hugh encouraged the other two to do their part manfully.
Even Claude was shivering less than before, as though a breath of
renewed confidence might have been installed in his heart by this
close contact with such a stalwart chap as Hugh Morgan. It was going
to be the turning point in Claude's career, of that Hugh felt
positive. After this thrilling experience he was bound to awaken to
the fact that he was not like other boys of his age; and demand of
his mother that she permit him to participate in the life-giving
outdoor sports that are a part and parcel of boy nature.

They began to climb. It was slow work, but Hugh would not be
hurried. Better that they waste time in gaining each foot than by an
unwise step ruin all. What matter if that arm of his was almost numb
with pain, and he had to press his teeth firmly together in order to
continue to hold up Claude? If only the other had been a normal boy
he could have helped himself wonderfully; but, as it was, he seemed
as weak and helpless as a kitten that had never opened its eyes as

Well, half of the distance separating them from the top had been
safely navigated, and so far no accident had occurred. Hugh kept
encouraging his charge from time to time; and then speaking words
also to the laboring, anxious boy above, directing him just how to

Finally they reached the top. Hugh still ordered "Just" Smith to
hold the pole as he had been doing. Then he managed to push Claude
up so that he could crawl over the edge, which the other did in a
speedy manner, bordering on the ludicrous.

Then, to the surprise, as well as delight of Hugh, what did Claude do
but turn and stretch out a helping hand, as though his first thought
was to assist his rescuer to top the rise; indeed, Hugh's one arm was
so utterly gone that he could hardly count on it for a single thing.
Hugh would not be apt to forget this action on the part of the
"sissy"; it proved what he had all along more than half suspected,
that Claude really did have the making of a genuine boy in him, given
half a chance for it to show itself, and the seed to germinate. And
Hugh determined that he would make it his particular business to see
that there came a change in Claude's dreary life. His mother could
hardly refuse anything asked by the one to whom she owed the life of
her son.

Soon the trio lay upon the ground, breathing hard, and trying to talk
at the same time. Both Hugh and "Just" Smith were consumed with
curiosity to know bow Claude happened to get into such a strange
predicament, and he hastened to explain.

After all, there was nothing so very singular about it. His mother
had stopped in to see an old nurse, who had been in the family many
years but was at the time lying sick at her sister's place.
Something influenced Claude to get out of the big car to take a
little stroll. Perhaps the sight of all those happy lads running and
jumping and throwing weights had made him feel more than ever his own
narrow, confined life, kept out of the society of all the other boys
after school hours, and made to play the part of a "mollycoddle," as
Roosevelt called all such fellows who have never learned how to take
care of themselves when a bully threatens.

Unused to the woods and hills, of course the first thing Claude did
was to lose all sense of direction. He became alarmed, and that made
matters worse than ever. So he had roamed about for almost a full
hour, dreadfully tiring his poor feet and limbs, since he had never
before in all his life walked so far and done such vigorous climbing.

Then he had come to that precipice, and, thinking he might glimpse
the cottage where the old nurse lived, somewhere down in the valley,
he had incautiously crept too close to the brink, when his weight
caused a portion of the soil to give way. Finding himself falling,
Claude had clutched desperately around him, and, as it happened, his
fingers gripped a friendly bush, to which he continued to cling even
as he struggled to better his condition and shouted as best he was

Hugh finished the story, to the edification of "Just" Smith, who
admitted that if it had not been for the courage and muscular ability
of Hugh the other boy must long ago have fallen to the bottom of the
awful precipice. And Claude, shivering as he afterwards looked up at
the forty feet and more of rocky wall, vowed he would never rest
satisfied until he too had learned how to develop his muscles so that
if ever again caught in a similar scrape he might have a fighting
chance for his life.

The two boys eventually found the cottage, although Mrs. Jardine and
the car had gone down the road hoping to overtake Claude, though they
were expected back again later; so, leaving Claude there, Hugh and
"Just" Smith continued their seven-mile run.




That was the telephone bell ringing.

"Hugh, will you answer it, since the chances are the call is from
some one of your numerous boy chums?" the voice of Mrs. Morgan came
from the dining-room, where she was looking after the silver and
china, after washing up the supper dishes, for they temporarily
chanced to be without a hired-girl.

Hugh guessed as much himself. He had already been called to the
phone several times since arriving home after his seven-mile spin.
Once it had been Claude's mother, begging him to be sure and call at
her house early in the morning, because she wanted to have a good,
long, earnest talk with him about Claude's future; and also to let
him know how brimful of gratitude a mother's heart could be toward
the brave boy who, at the risk of his own life, had saved her only
child for her.

Hugh had promised he would see her, although he expected to be very
busy on the morning of the athletic tournament and then expressed the
hope that Claude and herself would honor the tournament with their
presence. This she hastily assured him she meant to do, because it
was now borne in on her heart that she had been making a terrible
mistake in reference to the way she was bringing up her darling

Needless to say, Hugh had chuckled joyously after that little talk.
He guessed he would have little trouble now in removing the scales
Mrs. Jardine had allowed to cover her eyes with regard to the
benefits to be derived by any boy, no matter how weak he might be,
through a judicious system of athletic exercises, the same to be
lengthened as he gradually grew more capable of standing fatigue.

"Hello!" Hugh called.

A voice he immediately recognized as that of Horatio Juggins greeted
him. "That you, Hugh?"

"Just who it is; what's the matter, Horatio? Feeling the effects of
your little jog this afternoon? I hope not, for your sake,

"Oh! come off, Hugh," the other quickly replied. "I'd be a fine
candidate for a fifteen-mile Marathon race, wouldn't I, if seven
miles knocked me out? I'm as fit right now as a fiddle. But Hugh,
can you come right over here now? Something dreadful has happened."

Hugh had a chilly feeling pass over him. It seemed as though some
sort of bad news was coming. Had the great meet been called off, for
some unknown reason or other? Somehow that struck him first as a
dire possibility, since it would grievously disappoint thousands of
eager boys and girls, not to mention many older folks with young

Now Hugh had intended to take that evening quietly, resting after his
strenuous afternoon, and absolutely refuse to allow Thad, or any
other fellow, to coax him outside the door. But already this resolve
began to weaken. That dim mention of some possible tragedy happening
started him going.

"Of course I can come over, Horatio," he told the boy at the other
end of the wire; "and I'll do so right away on condition that it's no
joke. Tell me what's up first."

"Oh! I meant to do that, Hugh," his friend hastened to say, and Hugh
could detect a tremor to the boyish voice that told of excitement
"You see, it's K. K."

"What's happened to him?" demanded Hugh, his mind instantly
suggesting all manner of terrible possibilities, from a sudden attack
of sickness to an accident whereby his life might be in danger; for
with boys these things sometimes happen as unexpectedly as a flash of
lightning from a clear sky.

"Why, he never came back again from that run this afternoon, Hugh!"
Horatio was saying, in an awed tone now.

"What's that you're telling me?" exclaimed the astonished Hugh. "I
thought I saw K. K. with some of the other fellows when I was
starting home just before dusk came on, though, of course, I may have
been mistaken about it."

"You were, Hugh, you certainly were," Horatio assured him in a
softened tone. "His own mother ought to know, hadn't she? Well,
she's over here at our house right now, crying her eyes out, and
imagining all sorts of terrible things. You remember the Kinkaids
live close by us; and she knew her boy was going to take the run this
afternoon along with me, so she thought I could tell her if anything
had happened to detain him. Why, she says K. K. never missed his
supper before in all his life. It'd have to be something fierce to
keep him away from his best meal of the whole day."

Hugh was thinking swiftly. He realized that this was no little
matter to be dismissed as unimportant. Something certainly must have
happened to detain K. K. for all this time. Several hours had
elapsed since the other fellows reached the terminus of the long run
at the athletic grounds. Why then had not K. K. shown up?

"Keep the rest till I get there, Horatio!" he told the other.

"Then you're sure coming, are you, Hugh?"

"Right away," Hugh added.

"Well, I'm glad, because you'll know what to do about it. And
there's something else!"


"I've got something to tell you that, say, I didn't have the heart to
explain to K. K.'s mother, because she's bad enough frightened as it
is; but it's looking particularly ugly to me, now that he hasn't come
back. Oh! perhaps there is more'n a grain of truth in all those
terrible stories those hayseeds tell about that place!"

Hugh put up the receiver with a bang, made a dash for his cap,
slipped on his sweater, for he knew the night air was cold, and then
shot out of doors. Somehow those last few words of Horatio,
breathing of mystery as they did, had excited his curiosity until it
now reached fever-pitch.

As he knew of several short-cuts across lots it took him but a few
minutes to arrive at the Juggins home. Horatio was waiting at the
door, and must have heard him running up the steps, for he instantly
opened it to admit him.

"Gee, but I'm glad you've come, Hugh!" was his greeting. "She's in
there with mother, and taking on awful about it. It's a dreadful
thing to see a woman cry, Hugh. And I'm afraid there may be a good
reason for expecting the worst."

"Tell me what you've got up your sleeve, Horatio," snapped Hugh, "and
quit giving all these dark hints. You know something connected with
K. K. that perhaps no one else does."

"Guess I do, Hugh; for he confided in me, and told me not to say
anything to the rest. Oh, how foolish it was for K. K. to think he
could do that big job two days in succession; but he said he was
feeling equal to nearly anything; and just had to make the try, since
the notion had gripped him. But come on over to my den, Hugh, and
I'll tell you all about it. Then you must decide what's best to be
done; and say, I hope you can soothe Mrs. Kinkaid a bit in the

Ten seconds later and the two boys found themselves ensconced in the
room Horatio called his "den," although it was also his sleeping
apartment. But he had fixed it as near like a boy's ideal of a
lounging-place could be, the walls carrying the customary college
pennants and a great variety of other things besides that gave them a
rather crowded appearance. Evidently Horatio believed it added to
the charm, for he never entered that "sanctum" without an involuntary
smile of appreciation.

Horatio closed the door softly after him. Hugh had also noticed how
he did this just as carefully when admitting him to the front hall;
and as | though he expected that this must have aroused | a certain
amount of curiosity, Horatio hastened to explain.

"You see, the poor woman is so excited, and in such a nervous
condition, that she jumps up at the sound of a door closing, and
starts to rush out into the hall, believing that Justin has got back
home and hurried over to acquaint her with the joyous fact. Each
time her disappointment leaves her worse than before. She will be
needing Doctor Cadmus if this keeps on, as sure as anything."

"Well, what is it you want to tell me, Horatio?" demanded Hugh, not
even taking the trouble to drop down into the chair the owner of the
"den" shoved toward him; for it seemed as though he must soon be on
the jump--there was evidently something hanging over their heads,
which would be needing prompt attention.

"Why, it's just this, Hugh," began the other. "K. K. took a foolish
notion he'd like to say he'd gone over the full course just for
practice. And, Hugh; he told me he meant to make use of the
short-cut that crosses the old haunted quarry!"

Hugh started, and looked serious.

"Then, if anything has happened to K. K., it must have been while he
was crossing that mile tract between the two main roads," he went on
to say, without hesitation. Horatio nodded his head eagerly.

"I jumped to that same conclusion, Hugh, only I didn't dare mention
it to Mrs. Kinkaid. I thought you ought to know first of all, and
decide on the program. It's terrible just to think of it; and K. K.
actually pretended to make light, too, of all those stories the
farmers have been telling about that awful place."

"Hold your horses, Horatio!" Hugh exclaimed. "When I said that I
wasn't thinking of ghosts, or anything else unnatural. I meant that
in all probability poor K. K. met with some ordinary accident while
on that stretch, and has been unable to continue his run. He may
have tripped on a vine he failed to see, and either broken his leg,
or else sprained his ankle so badly that he can't even limp along.
I've known such a thing to happen--in fact, once I got myself in the
same pickle, and had to _crawl_ two miles to a house, every foot of
the way on hands and knees, because the pain was frightful whenever I
tried to stand up. Well, the chances are K. K. has had such a thing
befall him."

Horatio heaved a tremendous sigh, as though quite a weighty load had
been taken off Ms chest.

"You make me feel a heap better, Hugh, when you're so positive," he
hastened to admit. "I was afraid it might be something even worse
than a sprain; but never mind what I thought. The question now is,
what ought we do about it?"

"There's only one thing that can be done," Hugh told him in his
customary straight-from-the-shoulder fashion, "which is for some of
his chums to organize a searching party, get the old Kinkaid car out,
and go up there to look over that abandoned road from one end to the
other. We'll find K. K., or know the reason why."

"That sounds good to me, Hugh!" declared Horatio, always ready to
follow where a bold leader showed the way; "and perhaps we may have
an opportunity to discover whether there is any truth about those
queer happenings the farmers keep telling of whenever the old quarry
is mentioned in their presence."

"We'll not bother our minds about fairy stories," Hugh assured him.
"What we're meaning to do is to look for a practical explanation of
K. K.'s holding out. And, mark my words, the chances are ten to one
we'll find the poor chap groaning alongside that road somewhere. But
let's get busy now, Horatio!"



Hugh would really have been better satisfied if he could have hurried
away without seeing K. K.'s mother. He feared that she might delay
progress more or less, and at such a time every minute counted.

But at the same time he realized that the poor lady was in a dreadful
state of mind. It was necessary then that he try and soothe her
anxiety, for, as Horatio knew very well, Hugh Morgan had a way of
making other people feel the utmost confidence in him.

"Well, let's see K. K.'s mother, Horatio; but we mustn't waste much
time. We'll have to get her permission to run the car. I only hope
there's a decent supply of gas aboard, or in the garage."

Accordingly, Horatio led him into another room, where they found Mrs.
Kinkaid in a dreadfully nervous condition. She jumped to her feet on
discovering that Horatio had another boy with him, and then upon
seeing that it was not the one her heart was yearning after she
uttered a pitiful wail, and fell back into her chair again.

Hugh wasted no time, but commenced telling her something of what he
had heard from Horatio, connected with K. K.'s foolish determination
to take in the entire course as though in the race.

"Of a certainty he's fallen and sprained an ankle somewhere along
that cross-country road, Mrs. Kinkaid," he ended with. "We mean to
gather a few of the fellows, and if you'll give us permission to use
your big car we intend to run up there and look that road over from
end to end. There is no doubt but what we'll find K. K. and fetch
him back with us. So please try and feel that things will turn out
all right. Make up your mind we won't come back without him, that's
all there is to it."

Somehow the very confidence shown in Hugh's words seemed to pass
along to the almost distracted lady. Her eyes lighted up with
renewed courage, and she even smiled, though wanly, it must be
confessed. But then Hugh was pretty much of a magician in regard to
arousing a feeling of hope in the most depressed mind.

"You are a thousand times welcome to the car," she hurriedly assured
him; "and anything else you might want. It is dreadfully unfortunate
Mr. Kinkaid is away on one of his usual business trips to the west,
or he would insist on going with you. But I feel certain, Hugh, you
will manage things splendidly, and a mother's prayers will go after
you, that you may not only find my boy, but that he may not have been
seriously injured."

"Then we'll not linger any longer, ma'am," said Hugh, eager to be on
the move.

Horatio wrapped himself up warmly, and the| two of them shot out of
the door.

"Now, what first, Hugh?"

Hugh seemed to have mapped out a plan of campaign in his mind, for he
answered without hesitation.

"We must pick up several of the fellows--Thad for one, then Owen
Dugdale would be another good hand at hunting for a lost party; and,
well, Julius Hobson for the third. That will make five in
all,--enough to search the quarry road from end to end. Besides, we
ought to carry several lanterns, because, while there is a moon, I
reckon we'll find it far from light along that overgrown trail."

"You just think of everything, Hugh," remarked Horatio, wonderingly.

"Let's get the car, first of all," Hugh continued shrewdly, "because
it can save us many steps in picking up the other fellows."

By this time they were at the Kinkaid home. Horatio was well
acquainted with the premises, as he had played with K. K. since they
were small boys together. Hugh had been told where the key of the
garage was hidden, and quickly discovered it hanging on a concealed

"Wait till I throw the switch, and light up," said Horatio, for they
had electricity at the Kinkaid place, and, of course, a bulb lighted
in the garage was considered much safer than a lantern.

As soon as the illumination came both boys set about examining the
big touring car that occupied the garage.

"Bully!" ejaculated Horatio, after making the rounds with suspended
breath; "all the tires are as hard as anything. How about the supply
of gas, Hugh?" for his companion had occupied himself with making an
examination of the tank.

"Plenty to carry us up and back twice over!" cried the delighted
Hugh. "This is what I call great luck. I was afraid there would be
a tire that needed changing; or else no gasolene at all. K. K.
didn't realize how kind he was to himself when he fitted up the old
car so handsomely, for some purpose."

"Oh!" chuckled Horatio, "mebbe I know why. You see, there's going to
be another barn dance next Tuesday night up at Bailey's, and I think
K. K. asked a girl to go with him and Peggy Noland and Owen Dugdale.
Yes, he even told me there was still room for two more, if I could
coax somebody to keep me, company."

Hugh busied himself in starting the car going. He knew considerable
about mechanics, as most boys of the present generation do, since
automobiles have become so very common. Running it out of the garage
Hugh bade Horatio "hop aboard," which that worthy did without a
second invitation.

"Better get Thad first of all, I reckon," suggested Hugh, as though
he might even have figured out how best to save themselves from any
unnecessary delay; "then we can clip around to Julius Hobson's place,
and pick up Owen last on our way out of town."

The program suited Horatio first class. Indeed, he had such perfect
confidence in Hugh that anything the other said carried conviction
along with it. It is a fine thing for any boy to have aroused such a
spirit of trust in the minds of his comrades that they look up to him
as a sort of natural leader, and obey his slightest wish without
hesitation. But Hugh bore his honors with humility, and never
attempted to display the attributes of a czar.

Great was the astonishment of Thad Stevens when he found two excited
fellows demanding that he bundle up and go with them for a night ride
up to the abandoned quarry that had gained such a bad reputation
among the country folks residing roundabout.

The story was partly told in rapid-fire style, enough of it, at
least, to cause Thad to bounce into his heavy coat, and provide
himself with a lantern. He expected to become better informed from
time to time as they pushed along the road.

Next came Julius Hobson. They found him at home also, and, of
course, he was duly worked up on hearing how poor K. K. had never
returned home from his run over the long course of fifteen miles.
When he heard that they needed lanterns Julius produced a new
electric flashlight which he had received for a birthday present, and
Hugh said it would do very well as an additional means of

Last of all they stopped at the home of Owen Dugdale, the dark-faced
lad who lived with his grandfather in a big house, and about whom
there had at one time been quite a little halo of mystery hanging.
["The Chums of Scranton High on Deck."]

Again was the main fact mentioned concerning the necessity for a
searching party starting forth to find poor K. K. Owen did not have
to be urged to join the bunch; indeed, he showed himself eager to
accompany them.

"I can fetch a lantern, if you want me to, Hugh," he observed; "and
say, do you know I'm of a mind to carry my new shotgun that I had
given to me just last month, when Grandfather concluded I was old
enough to want to go hunting. If we have to chase all around through
that place there's so many queer stories told about we might as well
be fixed so as to protect ourselves."

"Huh!" snorted Horatio Juggins, skeptically, "I've always heard that
ghosts don't mind ordinary birdshot any more'n an alligator would.
But then fetch it along, Owen; it'll no doubt make us feel a little
better when we find ourselves up in that terribly lonely tract of
country. And who knows but what there might be a stray wildcat
abroad in those woods. Such things have been heard of, and I even
saw the skin of a whopper shown in the market."

So Owen carried out his design, and when he got aboard the big car he
took with him not only a lantern, well filled with oil but also his
brand new twelve-gauge shotgun.

At last they were off. Every fellow felt a peculiar sense of
exhilaration that possibly even bordered on anticipation, take
possession of him; for the future was there before them all unknown.
Who could say what strange adventures might befall them before this
undertaking was finished?

Of course they had the headlights turned on at full force, and Hugh
at the wheel found no difficulty in keeping the middle of the road.
He did not mean to pursue a reckless pace, because, if they met with
an accident it would spoil all their plans. Better to go at an
ordinary rate of speed, and make haste slowly, so to speak.

Meanwhile there was a clatter of tongues aboard the big car. Julius,
Thad and Owen had dozens of pertinent questions ready to fire at
Horatio, who was kept busy making illuminating replies. Thus the
trio learned how K. K. had unwisely determined to cover the entire
course and only whispered his intention to his chum, Horatio, at the
same time binding him to silence, for fear lest Mr. Leonard put a
damper on his plans by vetoing the scheme in the start.

Then suggestions began to flow like water after a storm. All sorts
of possibilities covering such a strange disappearance were advanced.
Owen believed that Horatio was not far amiss when he declared there
might be something in that ghost business, after all; and that poor
K. K. had found it out to his cost; though, beyond this broad
statement, Owen declined to commit himself, because he, of course,
could not imagine what a genuine ghost would look like, in the
daytime at that; or what such an apparition would be likely to do to
a boy who had had the ill-luck to fall into its clutches.

A dozen additional ideas were advanced, some of them bordering on the
absurd and others really plausible. The unlimited resources of a
boy's fertile mind in conjuring up remarkable explanations in a
mysterious case like the one now engaging their attention had not yet
been reached at the time Hugh suddenly announced they were close to
the place where the abandoned quarry road started in from the
thoroughfare they were then following.

"We just passed the twin oaks I remember stood alongside the road on
the left," he explained, at the same time slowing up considerably;
"and they are close to the turning-in place. I noticed them in
particular, you see, because I didn't want to lose even three seconds
when on the run, in searching for some sign of the spot; though, of
course, I could have looked for the marks of our tires left there at
the time we came back from our nutting excursion, and went through to
the other road. Yes, here we are right now, and I'm going to turn
in, boys."

He negotiated the turn without accident, though the branches of the
trees did scrape against the sides of the car in a way that made some
of the occupants shudder; for already they were beginning to feel a
trace of the uneasiness that their gruesome surroundings were apt to
arouse within their boyish hearts.



"Hugh, it looks like we mightn't need those lanterns after all,"
remarked Horatio, after they had gotten well started along the dimly
seen quarry road.

Indeed, the brilliant headlights of the big car illuminated a radius
of considerable size ahead of them and around. Every tiny twig was
thrown out into bold relief, as though a powerful sun had found a way
of forcing ingress through the canopy of leafless branches overhead.

"Not just at present, perhaps," replied the driver at the wheel; "but
they may come in handy yet. We'll wait and see."

Owen sat beside Hugh, the other three occupying the tonneau of the
car. There was abundance of room for all, and some to spare. Owen
held his new shotgun in his hands and he kept a close watch upon the
road ahead, just as though that idea connected with a ferocious
wildcat might have taken hold on his mind, and he believed there was
a possibility of such a thing coming to pass.

Hugh drove with exceedingly great care, and made no attempt at speed.
Indeed, such a thing was utterly out of the question, with that rough
road to follow and the necessity of keeping a constant vigilant
outlook, lest they collide with some tree. When the quarry was in
full operation automobiles were an unknown luxury; and certainly no
provision had ever been made for such a contraption passing along
that crooked trail with its numerous sharp curves intended to avoid
natural obstacles. Three separate times already had Hugh brought the
car to a full stop, and even caused the engine to cease its
throbbing. This was done in order that all of them might strain
their hearing, in hopes of catching some faint sound to tell that the
missing boy whom they sought was close at hand.

But only disappointment succeeded each attempt to pick up
information. They caught the dismal hooting of an owl in some dead
tree not far away, but certainly such a doleful sound did not raise
their spirits materially. Several times while they were moving along
Owen had seen a movement amidst the brush that gave him a little
thrill; but the glimpses he obtained of the disappearing animal
convinced him in one instance that it was a red fox that scurried off
in alarm; while on the second occasion he rather imagined it was only
a ring-tailed raccoon scuttling away and badly frightened by the
intense white glow that had suddenly penetrated his dark quarters.
If there was a wildcat within twenty miles the spot they certainly
never knew of it, because no such beast of prey disclosed its
presence to them while they continued on their way.

But then there were plenty of thrills for the boys. Not only did the
weird hooting of that horned owl come to make their flesh creep, but
now and again they detected strange sounds that may have been caused
by limbs of the trees rubbing together in the night breeze, but which
had a wonderful resemblance to human groans.

They had been pursuing their way along for some little time without
much attempt at conversation; but it is pretty hard for a parcel of
boys to remain long silent, no matter what the provocation. And
Horatio, for one, felt urged to free his mind of certain fancies that
had taken lodging there.

"I say, fellows, doesn't this beat everything you ever saw all
hollow?" he went on to say, for there was really no need of their
keeping quiet, since they had not started out to steal a march upon
any enemy,--only to find poor lost K. K. "Just listen to that awful
groaning sound, will you? If I didn't know it was caused by the
limbs of trees sawing across each other in the wind I'd think
somebody was almost dying."

"At another time I guess we wouldn't bother our heads about such a
silly thing," observed Julius Hobson; "but, of course, our minds are
full up with what may have happened to our comrade, and all that
noise makes us shiver a heap; it's so suggestive, so to speak."

"Oh! what did you think you saw then, Owen?" gasped Horatio, as,
chancing to fix his gaze on the other, he noticed him suddenly
elevate his gun, as though tempted to shoot the same.

Owen chuckled.

"It was only a frisky rabbit, after all," he announced calmly enough.
"I was just covering him to find out how easy I could nail the
rascal, if only I was out hunting game instead of a lost boy. And
we'd have had rabbit stew at the Dugdale home to-morrow, let me tell
you, Horatio, if I'd cared to let fly, for I had him covered

"Well, please don't do it in a hurry again, Owen," asked Horatio,
settling back once more, and hoping his throbbing heart might not
beat so loudly that any of his comrades could hear it pounding
against his ribs. "Remember this is no ordinary patch of woods we're
in right now. All sorts of stories have been told concerning the
country up here; and in passing through after nightfall we're doing
what a big bribe couldn't tempt any farmer's help to try. But, Hugh,
don't you think we must be getting pretty near that place by this

"Just about two-thirds of the way, Horatio," he was informed. "That
leaning tree we passed is exactly three hundred and thirty-seven
paces from the place we left the road."

"Well, what do you think of that for looking ahead, fellows!"
ejaculated Horatio. "Hugh here took all the trouble to count the
steps while passing through, the day he came up to examine the
ground. That's what I call preparedness, and I guess it counts in a
race, just as much as in getting ready for war."

Hugh laughed as though momentarily amused.

"Well, they're both in the same category, Horatio, if you look at
things from the right point of view; rival armies and rival athletes
contending for the prize which in both cases would mean victory.
Looking ahead is a useful hobby, and, it's served me handsomely on
many an occasion. I consider no time wasted that is employed to
insure success; even if you never need the information you've picked
up it adds to your stock of knowledge; and no fellow can have too big
a fund of that."

"Then we ought soon to be getting there, at this rate," continued
Horatio. "Let's hope nothing happens to our old car. We'd have a
jolly walk back to town if we broke down here and couldn't fix
things. I'd prefer making a fire and spending the night in the woods
to taking such a tramp, which would debar us from all hope of making
that big run to-morrow."

"With K. K. out of the game the chances for Scranton High begin to
flicker some," admitted Julius. "He was showing unusual stamina
right now, and secretly I was backing K. K. to bring home the bacon
for our school. Of course, with Hugh and Horatio and 'Just' Smith
still in the ring it isn't hopeless by any means; but they do say
those Allandale chaps have unearthed several wonders at long-distance
running, and they are dying to knock Scranton down this time."

Again Hugh stopped the car and bade the others listen.

"It isn't that I thought I heard anything suspicious, fellows," he
went on to explain, when they manifested a certain amount of
excitement; "but, on general principles, I think we ought to stop
oftener, and find out if there's anything doing."

After testing their combined hearing to the limit, and without any
success, Hugh again started up. It was Thad who spoke next, and
apparently he had been considering something that he would like to
have made clear.

"What if we pass all the way through to the other road, without
learning a single thing, Hugh?" he went on to say; "do you mean to
give it up, and head for home then and there?"

"Well, I should hope not, Thad!" burst out Horatio; "we're none of us
built that way. Because a fellow gets a single knock-down in a fight
ought he to throw up the sponge right away, and own himself beaten?
Why, we started out to find K. K., and sleep isn't going to visit my
eyes this night until we succeed. That's the way I look at it, and I
reckon the rest of you are in the same boat."

"If such a thing should happen, Thad," said Hugh, sturdily, "we'll
simply turn around and come back again; only, under the new
conditions, some of you will have to turn out with the lanterns, and
search alongside the road as we go slowly along."

Horatio gave a gasp that was plainly audible.

"Do you really mean, Hugh," ho went on to ask, in a voice that
trembled more or less despite Horatio's effort to control the same,
"that you half expect to find K. K. lying alongside the road, either
dead, or else insensible from the pain of his broken leg?"

"Well, I wasn't just thinking things would be as bad as all that,"
Hugh hastened to say. "What I had in mind was the chance of coming
on his footprints, and then trying to follow the same. We could
easily tell them, for K. K. had on his running shoes, you remember.
By tracking him, step by step, don't you see, we could tell just
where he met with his trouble, even find out, perhaps, the nature of
his accident, and continue to follow him up."

"That would suit me first rate," said Julius, promptly; "and my fine
electric hand-torch might come into play with a vengeance. There's
nothing better going for following a trail in the dark, because the
light is focussed, you see, on a small compass. Why, you can pick up
night-walkers like everything when the fishing season's on, by using
a flashlight. I could even find a needle in a haystack, I believe,
with one of these jim-dandy contraptions."

"All right, Julius, we'll appoint you head tracker, then," chuckled
Horatio. "But, after all, perhaps we'll run across our comrade yet,
before we get out of this tangle. We're about to come to the most
critical point of the entire trip, remember, for the old quarry is
just ahead of us."

Horatio chanced to be on the side of the car toward the quarry. He
was not spending nearly so much time now looking ahead, leaving the
task to his chums; even while talking he kept his eyes fixed upon the
dark expanse that represented the surrounding woods, anticipating
catching glimpse of something, he hardly knew what, at any moment
now. Doubtless all those silly yarns retailed by the ignorant
gossiping farm-hands in the market-place in Scranton, while they
tried to outdo one another in matching fairy stories, must have been
circulating through Horatio's brain just then. The heavy atmosphere
of the deserted stone quarry, and its lonely surroundings, added to
the mysterious disappearance of K. K., combined to make him
peculiarly susceptible to such influences as see ghosts in every
white object that moves in the darkness.

This being the case with the Juggins boy it was not to be wondered at
that there could be traced a vein of actual gratification in his
voice when he suddenly electrified his companions by exclaiming:

"Hugh! fellows, I tell you I saw it right then, just as that Swanson
farmhand vowed to me he did once on a time this last summer--it was a
light, waved up and down, back and forth, and just like they teach
you when you join the Signal Corps, and learn how to wigwag with a
flag or a lantern. It came from right over yonder, where we all know
the old quarry lies! And I'm not fooling, either; cross my heart if
I am!"



Everybody was staring hard by the time Horatio finished. Hugh, of
course, had immediately stopped the car on the road, so that they
were now stationary.

It chanced that the spot was one of few where a glimpse of the quarry
could be picked up, as the boys had discovered at the time they
passed along this way, when we overtook them on their nutting trip.

Seconds crept past.

Each boy could measure time by the beating of his wildly accelerated
heart, and as these were throbbing at the rate of something like a
hundred pulsations per minute it can be easily understood that
"things were going some," to quote Horatio, when afterwards telling
the story.

Then all of them saw what the first discoverer had attempted to
describe. They stared as though fascinated. Truly Horatio had said
well when he spoke of the odd movements of the mysterious light; for
it moved swiftly up and down, then sideways, and in eccentric
circles, after which it vanished as suddenly as it had come into

Some of the boys sighed, as though being wakened from a dream.
Horatio, of course, was full of deepest gratification, since he had
detected a skeptical air in the actions of Thad and Owen, which
seemed to place him in the light of one who "saw things where none

"There, didn't I tell you?" he exclaimed, triumphantly. "And, say,
wasn't that--eh, party, whoever he might be, making some sort of
telegraphic signals with his old lantern or torch?"

"Hugh, what do you think?" demanded Thad. "You're up in all that
kind of wigwag signal work, and perhaps now you could tell what it

"I lost some of it, I'm sorry to say, fellows;" observed Hugh,
gravely; "but all the same I caught enough to tell me that waving of
a light was meant as a signal message, though who sent it, and to
whom, is all a mystery."

"But could you make out enough of the message, Hugh, to give you any
idea what it stood for?" persisted Thad.

"Yes, I believe I did," the other admitted, solemnly, so that each of
his chums bent closer to catch the next words that fell from his
lips. "I'm certain it spelled out the word 'help,' for one; and I
thought another was 'quick'!"

"Oh! what do you think of that?" gasped Horatio.

"The mystery deepens," added Owen, dramatically, just as he had
probably been accustomed to reading in some story of excitement.

"Of course," continued Hugh, immediately, "we've got to take a look
around that same old quarry, and see what's going on. Somebody's
holding the fort there, even if it is said to be deserted. Who and
what he can be, of course, remains to be seen; but I'm not taking a
bit of stock in those old wives' yarns about a ghost, remember,

"Then we'll have to leave the car on the road, won't we, Hugh, when
we tackle this big job?" questioned Owen.

"Of course; and since I marked the best spot where anyone could make
their way along to the face of the quarry, we must start up again,
and keep moving till we strike that place."

"But, Hugh, do you think the--er--party making those signals with a
light could have noticed our illumination, and that message was meant
for us?" Horatio went on to ask, solicitously.

"I'm not prepared to say," he was told, "though I don't see how
anybody with eyes could miss discovering us coming along. And,
besides the old car makes plenty of noise in the bargain to attract
attention. So it looks as if he did know and was trying to talk to

All this only added to the thrill that was for ever passing through
each and every member of the night expedition. It would be
manifestly impossible to describe their mixed feelings as they
advanced slowly along the rough road so long abandoned to nature. A
dozen times Horatio believed he heard cries; why, it seemed as though
the air must be filled with uncanny sounds, for his lively
imagination was working at race-horse speed just then.

The car shopped short.

"Wow! what's happened now, Hugh?" whispered Horatio.

"We've arrived at the getting-out place, that's all," came the steady
reply, as the chauffeur caused the engine to cease working and then
proceeded to leave his seat, after his companion had jumped out.

The lanterns were now lighted and the electric torch made ready for
use. If hands trembled considerably during this operation, causing
several matches to be used before the desired results were obtained,
could anyone blame Owen and the other possessor of a lantern? It was
a most remarkable thing that no one evinced the slightest disposition
to stay by the car, and guard it against thieves. It was a case of
"follow the leader," and where Hugh went they were all bound to go
also. To be honest, the chances were that Horatio, for one, could
not have been coaxed to separate himself from the company of his four
chums; because there was a great deal of truth in that old maxim, "in
union there is strength."

Hugh now led the way. He had been given one of the lanterns with
which to light a passage across the heaps of broken stones, earth,
and rubbish, cast there at the time in the remote past when the
quarry was in full blast, with workmen delving into the hillside,
blasting away sections through the use of dynamite or powder, and
sending out many wagon-loads of building-stone each of the six
working days of the week.

They did not string out in single file, but kept bunched together.
Indeed, this came through no accident, but there was a method in
their madness; because, you see, no fellow would want to be the
hindmost in the file.

Hugh showed a wonderful amount of knowledge of the place, considering
that he had never before in his life placed a foot upon the ground
and had to depend entirely on his former observations. But he kept
on as straight as could be expected, and presently Owen managed to
muster up courage enough to say in a low and most carefully guarded

"Hugh, did you take note of the _exact_ spot where the light showed
up? I'm asking because you seem to be heading direct for somewhere."

"I believe I know where it was," Hugh told him simply. "You see, I
noted several things about the face of the quarry that day we stopped
to look it over; and when I saw that dancing trail of fire I figured
out that it must be at just such a place, which spot I'm heading for
right now. And just as you spoke I had ample proof that I was right
in my guess."

"Why, what happened, Hugh?" demanded Horatio eagerly.

"I caught a faint glimpse of light up there," Hugh told him. "I
wonder none of the rest of you happened to notice the same. It made
me think that some person might be in one of those holes we saw in
the face of the wall--caves, the natives call them, Horatio says. As
this was somewhat deep only a tiny bit of illumination escaped, and
you could just detect that when at a certain angle. Stop short, now,
and see for yourselves, for there it is again!"

Thrilled to the bone they stood and gaped. Hugh was pointing with
his disengaged hand, half holding the lantern back of him so that its
glow might not further interfere with their view.

"You're right, Hugh; that's surely what it is," agreed Thad, almost
immediately; and each of the other three went on record with a
corresponding affirmative.

"Then the next thing for us to do is to find some way of climbing up
to that same fissure," the leader explained, showing that he meant to
lose no time in trying to open negotiations with the unknown denizens
of the quarry, whose actions were becoming more and more mysterious
as time passed.

"Which means that we're going to beard the tiger in his den," quoth
Owen, gripping his gun more firmly as he edged a little closer to
Hugh; for since he was the only member of the expedition who could be
said to possess a weapon it was proper that he should be found in the
van at such a crisis.

They walked on, not hastily, and showing no outward sign of the
tumult that must have raged in each boyish heart. Now it was on
longer possible for them to discern that faint glow; but such a
little thing did not daunt them. Hugh had marked well the exact
location of their objective point, and Hugh seldom made mistakes,
those other confident fellows were telling themselves as they
cheerfully trudged along.

The foot of the cliff was at hand. Rains and winds and snow
avalanches had, during the years that had passed since the hands of
men worked those diggings, served to cut loose great quantities of
debris from the face of the height, so that here and there at the
foot irregular pyramids of earth and rocks could be seen. Hugh now
seemed to have turned his attention from above and was bending half
over, as though examining the ground. Owen knew what this meant.
The other anticipated finding a track leading directly to the route
by means of which that cavern halfway up the cliff might be easiest

And, as often happens, such reasoning proved to be the wisest thing
the searchers could have undertaken, for hardly had half a minute
elapsed than Hugh was heard to give vent to a low ejaculation of

No one spoke, but they understood that he had found the trail he was
looking for. Indeed, he at once started to move along, still bending
over, and holding his lighted lantern low, so that its none too good
illumination would best serve him.

Now they reached a sort of strange little gully, where the silt had
washed down more heavily during the period of erosion than at any
other place. Looking up, the boys could see that it afforded a steep
but accessible avenue by means of which an agile person could ascend
the otherwise impregnable height towering above their heads.

Hugh halted not, but started up. Owen came close behind him, holding
that formidable shotgun so that he could thrust it ahead of his
leader should an occasion arise necessitating action. But Hugh had
already warned him not to be rash, and under no condition to dream of
firing until he himself had given the order.

It was a queer little procession that crept up that steep trail in
the gully formed by Nature during the heavy storms of summer and
winter. The twin lanterns glimmered and flickered as the night wind
puffed the tiny blazes; and ahead of all lay the white glow of the
electric hand-torch, showing them how they were now almost at the end
of their trail.

Yes, the fissure extended straight into the face of the cliff. Hugh
was taking them directly to the place where undoubtedly the
mysterious unknown had stood on a sort of rocky platform, and
indulged in all those queer telegraphic code motions with a light of
some sort.



Hugh led the way straight into the fissure. As they proceeded they
could see the light ahead growing stronger. Low sounds, as of
voices, also led them onward; and then, upon turning a bend, they
came upon a sight that had them all staring with wonder.

It was indeed a cave, and of considerable dimensions. A wild beast
would have delighted in such a den in which to hide from the rigors
of winter, but to boys accustomed to the luxuries of home life it
would doubtless have few attractions, especially after the novelty of
camping-out had worn off in a week's time.

It was a fire that burned which gave the light. A pile of dry wood,
mostly broken branches of dead trees, showed that the occupant of the
cave had laid in a supply against a rainy day.

There, sitting with his back against the wall, was their missing
comrade K. K. His face looked unusually white; and bore an
expression of acute pain, which, however, he manfully tried from time
to time to dismiss by a ghastly grin, altogether assumed, since he
certainly was in no mood for laughing.

They could see that his left leg was bandaged in some manner, as
though he might have broken the bones, and someone had tried to bind
up the limb. Even with that superficial glance Hugh marked the fact
that this had been done in a fashion indicating considerable previous
experience along such lines.

And then they turned their attention upon the other party, the
mysterious one who doubtless had found poor K. K. helpless on the
ground and borne him to this cavern in the quarry. He was indeed a
wild-looking party, with long, unkempt hair and a sunburnt face in
which his glowing eyes were deep-seated. There was that about him to
convince Hugh instantly he must be deranged, although just then the
man bent over poor K. K. solicitously, and seemed to be tenderly
doing something calculated to ease his pain.

Hugh coughed, meaning to draw attention to the fact of their arrival.
The man immediately stood up and bent a searching look upon the five
lads. Perhaps he had been hearing K. K. tell how some of his chums
would certainly be coming to search for him, and, therefore, even
though he might wish to remain in his hidden retreat undisturbed, he
manifested no hostility toward them, simply folded his arms and,
stepping back, watched their approach.

Hugh made gestures to indicate that they were peacefully disposed.
In doing so he purposely used the signal code and spelled out the one
word, "friend." He saw the wildman's thin face take on a sudden
gleam of awakened interest, and he nodded his head in the
affirmative, as if to reassure Hugh that they were not unwelcome.
From this the boy knew the stranger must at some time have been in
the army, and that even while his brain was resting under a cloud he
could still send and receive messages such as had been at one time
his daily avocation.

They reached the side of their unfortunate companion. He held out a
hand to welcome Hugh.

"Oh! I'm mighty glad you've come, fellows, I can tell you," he told
them, with a tremor in his voice, "I've had a rotten time of it all
around, and suffered terribly. You see, I made a fool of myself, and
tripped over a vine, so that I was thrown into a gully, with my left
leg under me. Snapped both bones, he says, just above the ankle, and
a fine time I've got ahead of me this winter, with no skating,
hockey, or anything worth living for. But then it might have been
worse, because my neck is worth more to me than my ankle. But now I
do hope you can get me home. I never wanted to see home and mother
one-half as much as now."

"Yes, we've come in the big car, K. K.," Hugh assured him. "And
we'll fetch you home right away. You ought to be looked after by
Doctor Wambold; broken bones are not things to be trifled with, and
while this party seems to have done the best he could it can only be
a makeshift."

"Don't you believe it, Hugh," said the injured boy warmly; "why, he's
a regular jim-dandy about such jobs. I bet you he used to be an army
surgeon in his younger days, from hints he's let drop. And then he
knows the Signal Corps work right off the handle to boot, even
if--well, I won't, say what I meant to. He's been so kind and
considerate to me; my own father couldn't have been more tender.
I've guessed the secret of the old haunted quarry, Hugh!" which last
he almost whispered in the other's ear.

"Yes, I can say the same," muttered Hugh, "because, as soon as I saw
that he was using the regular army code of signals, I remembered
about hearing how a certain family over near Hackensack had an uncle
who used to be in the Signal Corps and was also later on an army
surgeon, but who had suffered a sunstroke, and, well, was said to be
a bit queer."

"Yes," whispered K. K., "this is the same party. His name, I
remember, was Dr. Coursens, and there was some talk last summer about
his having got loose from the house and being drowned, they believed,
in the river, though his body was never found. Just to think of it,
he's been hiding here ever since, picking up his living almost like a
wild animal. Why, right now his clothes are nearly falling off his
back, and if he tries to hang out here much longer he'll be frozen to
death. But, Hugh, we must let his folks know where he is so they can
come after him. I believe, his mind is beginning to get a little
clear again, for at times he talks quite reasonably."

This was all mighty interesting to Hugh, and he determined that he
would let no grass grow under his feet until he had seen to it that
the man with the deranged mind was once more restored to his family.
But the first thing to be done was to get poor K. K. safely back home.

So he turned to the man and spoke to him, telling him that they
wished to get their comrade to the car, and at the same time thanking
him warmly for all he had done. Not a single word in reply did Hugh
receive. The man listened and nodded his head, as though he could
dimly understand what the boy was saying. Evidently he was in
something of a dazed condition, if, as K. K. affirmed, his senses
were beginning to assume a normal condition after years of darkness.

It was a terrible job getting K. K. down from that elevated place!
The man showed them how best to manage. He seemed really solicitous,
and it could be seen that he had taken quite a liking to K. K. during
their brief intercourse, since the latter had been found groaning on
the ground.

Eventually the level below the cliff was attained. Poor K. K. had
groaned many times, hard though he fought to repress the sounds, for
it was unavoidable that he should receive many jostlings while being
transferred to the lower level.

Then they made their way across the open space, and finally arrived
at the waiting car, in which the injured youth was deposited and made
as comfortable as the conditions allowed. The deranged man watched
all this with a wistful gleam in his eye. He had fled from his kind
while still gripped in the darkness of madness, but with the first
glimmer of reason being seated once more on its throne he commenced
to yearn after human fellowship again.

Since the boys had all taken such a deep-seated interest in the
matter it may be proper before the "ghost" of the haunted quarry is
dropped altogether from the story to state that the very next morning
Hugh went over to Hackensack and electrified the Coursen family with
certain remarkable news he brought. It ended in their all starting
forth and arriving at the quarry. They found the demented man
awaiting their coming as though he had guessed what Hugh had in his
mind. More than that he greeted them soberly, and called each member
of the family by name, something he had not been able to do since
that dark cloud descended upon his mind years back.

There seemed reason to believe that in due time Doctor Coursen might
regain his full senses again and spend a few years more with his
delighted relatives before the end came.

Hugh, of course, learned all about him and how he had served years in
the army, first as a sergeant in the Signal Corps, and later on
becoming a surgeon of considerable reputation before the accident in
the tropics deprived him of his reason. Perhaps it had been the
utterly helpless condition of poor K. K., when he came accidentally
upon the injured boy, that had strongly appealed to the surgical
spirit that still lay dormant in the brain and fingers of the insane
man and which had been the main cause of the light of reason
returning--surgery had been his passion, and the familiar work took
him back to other days, apparently.

And that very night, when Doctor Cadmus, hastily summoned to the home
of Mrs. Kinkaid, examined the work of the deranged dweller of the
quarry cave, he had pronounced it simply marvelous the clever way in
which the other had set those bones and put a splint on the leg, with
such clumsy means for working at hand. He declared he meant to
interest himself deeply in the case and see if such a skillful
surgeon might not be restored to the world so much in need of his
kind, with the terrible war raging on the other side of the Atlantic.

To conclude with this subject, at last accounts Dr. Coursen had so
far recovered as to send in his application for a berth in some
hospital over in France, where his wonderful knowledge of surgery
might prove useful to the countless wounded men at the front. And
doubtless ere this reaches the eye of the reader he may be across the
Atlantic, serving humanity in the great cause.

Long would those five lads remember that strange expedition up to the
haunted quarry, and what a remarkable discovery they made after
arriving on the ground. It may be that Horatio, yes, and Julius
also, would be less apt to clothe anything along a mysterious nature
with ghostly attributes, after learning how common-sense and
investigation will, in nearly all cases, turn suspicion into
ridicule. But while the country folks, of course, also learned how
the phantom of the quarry had turned out to be just a crazy man who
had escaped from his confinement at home and gone back to primeval
ways of living, few of them would ever muster up the courage to visit
the deserted quarry after nightfall. It had too many thrilling
associations to please them; and besides, what was the use of going
out of their way just to feel the "goose-flesh" creep over their
bodies when an owl hooted, or some little forest animal gave a grunt?

K. K., being young and healthy, and attended carefully by good old
Doctor Cadmus, was not confined to the house for many weeks. The
bones did not require resetting, and rapidly knitted, so that after a
while he could walk to and from school with the aid of a crutch; and
later this, in turn, gave way to a cane. When February came he even
threw this aid aside, and by March was seen taking his part in school
rushes, as though he had never been injured at all. But his skates
were never once used all winter, nor could he indulge in any
sledding, both of which were favorite pleasures with K. K.

On the whole, however, he felt that he had much to be thankful for;
and tried not to be too greatly disappointed. But his chums would
miss him when the Marathon race was on; because he had been accounted
one of the best long-distance runners without exception that Scranton
High could boast.



Saturday opened with a promise of fair weather, and thousands of
anxious hearts beat high with satisfaction when this important fact
became manifest.

Before the morning was half over many strangers were noticed in town,
having taken the day off in order to attend the wonderful meet, of
which so much had been said. Every boy in Scranton was wild-eyed,
and on the run most of the time, trying to be here, there, and in
half a dozen places at once, if such a thing were possible.

Indeed, there was so much going on it reminded some people of the
famous circus that visited the town two years back, with three
separate rings, and something taking place in each at the same time;
so that the spectators hardly knew how to take it all in and keep
from being cross-eyed.

Out at the athletic grounds there were crowds gathered. Men were
working at the fence, while another gang, under the orders of Mr.
Leonard, carefully put in place such paraphernalia as would be needed
in carrying out the programme. Even the big pole had been well
greased for the climbing match; while the hurdles for the obstacle
race were ready to be placed in position at the proper time; and a
thousand and one other matters engaged the attention of the physical
director, who was probably the most industrious man in seven counties
that Saturday A.M.

Nor was that all. Some of the would-be contestants, not wholly
satisfied with their record for proficiency, and wishing to key
themselves up to top-notch speed against the now near hour of trial,
were on the ground, and in their working togs. Here a bunch galloped
swiftly around the cinder path, with one of their number holding the
watch on them to ascertain what time they made. Further along
several other fellows were jumping with might and main, and showing
either jubilation or deep chagrin as they found themselves able to do
a shade better than ever before, or else going backward in their

Indeed, that was going to be a red-letter day in the lives of all
Scranton's young people. They begrudged the passing minutes, because
their period of enjoyment would be shortened just so much with the
loss of every sixty seconds.

When Hugh came on the grounds, after his trip to Hackensack, and
seeing the hermit of the quarry once more safely lodged in the bosom
of his delighted family, he had only one regret. This was the fact
that poor K. K., whose heart had been so set on carrying the colors
of Scranton High to victory in the Marathon race, should be debarred
from participating in the same by a cruel fate.

As for himself Hugh was not quite so certain as before that he could
accomplish such a thing as getting over those fifteen miles ahead of
all competitors. What he had gone through with on the preceding day,
coupled with his night journey, and only partial rest, after getting
in bed at a late hour, had sapped some of his energy.

But Hugh's grit and determination were just as strong as ever, and he
meant to do his level best. If he fell down, why, there were "Just"
Smith, and Horatio Juggins, as well as two other Scranton fellows,
any one of whom might be the winner. So long as the prize fell to a
Scranton High boy, it mattered little who carried off the honors,
Hugh felt.

Noon came at last.

Everything was now ready for the opening of the athletic tournament.
Chief Wambold kept watch and ward over the grounds, assisted by his
entire force of uniformed men. He evidently did not intend that any
boy, with a mind that turned to practical joking, should have a
chance to exercise his evil propensities unchecked. Should such a
thing be attempted the joker would find himself up against a snag
immediately; and, as those posters announced, he was going to be
harshly dealt with up to the "extreme penalty of the law."

There were hundreds of people on the grounds at noon, which was a
pretty good marker for the immense crowds that would soon be heading
that way from every point of the compass. Most of these "early
birds" were, of course, out-of-town folks, farmers' families that had
come in, to market, perhaps, and they stayed over to see the great
show, because everybody living for many miles around Scranton had
heard about the meet, and and what a wonderful sight it would be,
well worth going miles to gaze upon. These thrifty and sensible
folks had, in many cases, brought their lunch along with them.
Perhaps they disliked the idea of eating in small restaurants, such
as Scranton, like most towns, boasted; but, no doubt, the main thing
was economy in these times of scanty cash and inflated war prices.

It was well worth watching when they started to open their packages,
and spread out the contents on the ground or, as might be, on the
benches where they had taken up their positions the better to see
what went on. And really it would have made any boy's mouth water to
note the immense quantities of home-made pies, doughnuts, fried
chicken, and all such good things as were displayed in those farmer's
wives lunch packets. At least there must be no sign of hard times
when the family went on a picnic, or any other sort of pleasure jaunt.

By then the crowds began to assemble in earnest. Town people,
fearing a crush, hastened to leave home with the lunch dishes
unwashed, and look for places to sit during the long afternoon.
Along the roads every type of car, wagon, carriage, and other styles
of equipages began to be seen, all heading toward the center of
interest, which was the town of Scranton.

Hundreds came from Allandale; indeed, it might be safe to even say
thousands, for in every direction could be seen the colors of
Allandale High, just as though each enthusiastic boy and girl had
rounded up all their relatives and friends, and induced them to make
it a point to travel to the neighboring borough, there to shout and
shriek, and in other ways lend encouragement to each Allandale
aspirant for athletic honors wherever they showed up.

Belleville, too, must look very much like the "Deserted Village" on
this particular afternoon; and, if the amount of business done
depended on the few who had remained at home, her merchants would
have to stay up until midnight in order to equal their customary
Saturday sales.

At half-past twelve the throng had become so dense that Chief Wambold
and his men were compelled to enlist the services of a number of
willing volunteers who, temporarily decorated with a silver shield,
were vested with the authority of regular officers, in order to keep
avenues open, and prevent the throng from breaking through the ropes
upon the limited field where the athletes expected to compete.

So far as attendance was concerned there was no longer the least
doubt but that the meet would prove an abounding success; the rest
remained to be proven. But the gathering athletes who began to
appear in little knots, coming from the dressing rooms of the
building, seemed full of confidence, and answered the loud salutes of
a myriad of friends in the crowd with reassuring nods, and gestures
calculated to buoy up their hopes.

The programme would be varied. First would come several short
sprints between the best runners of hundred-yard distances in the
county. These were sure to key up the spectators by their thrilling
intensity, as is always the case. Following fast upon these there
would be hammer-throwing, and the toss of the discus. Then the
programme called for other athletic exhibitions along a line that
would lend variety, and enhance the interest, as the different
schools struggled for supremacy in the arena provided, spurred on to
do their utmost by ringing cheers, and the dearly beloved class songs.

Everybody worth mentioning in Scranton would be there, from Dr.
Carmack, the supervising head of the county schools, as well as
principal of Scranton High, down the line to the Directors of the
Games, the town council, the mayors of the three boroughs, and a
whole host of notables besides.

And how the fond eyes of father and mother would follow the movements
of John, or Edward, or Philip, as though he might be the only young
athlete worth watching in all that animated scene. If he won, they
had always known he did not have an equal in his specialty; and
should he be so unlucky as to come in at the heels of the pack, why,
it was easy to be seen that he had not been given a square deal by
some of the rival runners, who persisted in getting in his way, and
were probably leagued together to prevent him from carrying off the
prize. But no matter, he would always be a hero in the eyes of those
who loved him, though he might not decorate the family mantel at home
with the prizes he aspired to win.

Hugh had kept fairly quiet after returning from Hackensack, and
seeing the hermit once more safe in the charge of his folks. He knew
that he must conserve his strength for the great undertaking that
confronted him that afternoon. Those who had entered for the
long-distance race would not be allowed, of course, to participate in
any other event; that had been laid down as law by Mr. Leonard when
they entered their names on the list of candidates. They must
simply stand around and watch what was going on until the time came
for staging the Marathon; when they could take their place in the
long string that would await the pistol shot intended to start them
on the telling grind.

Horatio and "Just" Smith were on deck, looking fit and eager. Then,
too, there was Nick Lang, with a grin on his heavy face every time he
glanced toward the other three fellows. It was getting on, and some
of the earlier events had already been carried through, amidst great
roars of applause as the different prizes went, this one to an
Allandale fellow, another to a boy wearing the Belleville High
colors; and three in succession to local lads.

"I don't exactly like the way that Nick Lang keeps on laughing to
himself every time he looks over in this direction," Horatio was
saying to the other two.

"I've noticed the same thing," spoke up "Just" Smith; "and it makes
me wonder if the tricky fellow hasn't got some slick game up his
sleeve, as usual, looking to giving the rest of us trouble. You
notice, don't you, boys, that, look as you will, you can't see
anything of either that Tip Slavin, or Leon Disney. Now, when
fellows who are as fond of outdoor sports as those two have always
been, keep shy when such a great event as this meet is being pulled
off, there must be a pretty good reason."

"They may be somewhere in the crowd," Hugh went on to say, "because
it'd be impossible for any single fellow to identify all that are in
that solid heaving yelling mass of people. Nick believes he has a
fair chance of leading the pack, and that makes him feel happy. I
heard him say only yesterday that the one fellow he was afraid of in
our whole bunch was K. K.; and now that accident has eliminated him,
why, naturally, Nick feels more confidence. In imagination he's
already receiving the grand Marathon prize, and hearing the crowds
yelling themselves hoarse."

"Well," snorted Horatio, gritting his teeth in a way he had when
aroused, "if that's what pleases Nick he's got another guess coming;
for three of us are also in the game; and he's got to do some mighty
tall sprinting in that last half-mile if he expects to win out. Then
there are a lot of other fellows in the run who may give him a pain.
But, according to the programme, our race comes next after this pole
vaulting contest; so, boys, we'd better be moving around, and getting
our place in line, according to our several numbers."



It was plainly noticeable how that vast crowd began to stir, and show
signs of increased interest when the numerous trim runners entered
for the big Marathon started to gather for the preliminary stage of
the race.

Each of the many contestants had a large number fastened upon both
the front and back of his thin upper garment. By these they might be
recognized even at a distance; and many persons carried field or
opera glasses of various types just on purpose to make out who each
runner was when he came in sight around the bend half a mile away, to
open on that last stretch that was likely to see the cruelest work of
all, if the competition chanced to be keen.

The boys, as a rule, looked very much like lithe grayhounds, for your
natural runner is light of body, and can course along like the wind.
Still, this applies more to short-distance sprinters than those whose
specialty is endurance in a fifteen- or twenty-mile race.

Several of the fellows were quite muscular in build, and gave
evidence of a grim determination such as the bulldog possesses.
These chaps might be easily distanced in the start, but they would
keep doggedly on, under the spur of the knowledge contained in that
old adage that "the race is not always to the swift."

Hugh Morgan was, perhaps, the best built of them all, neither too
heavy, nor yet betraying a weakness that would crop out after the
first five miles had been covered, as might be the case with the more
slender fellows.

They stood in line, listening to the last words of caution delivered
by Mr. Hitchens, a former Yale man who had umpired the baseball games
the preceding summer in such an impartial manner that everyone had
the utmost reliance on his fairness.

He explained to them the simple conditions of the race,--how there
must be no fouling of any kind; just how often and where the
contestants must register their names in books kept by judges on the
course; how each was supposed to give his word of honor not to accept
any sort of lift for even a dozen feet; and that the great crowd
assembled would be waiting to acclaim the first-comer as the victor
in the greatest long-distance race ever attempted by high-school
boys, at least in that particular county.

They were allowed a certain latitude as to their methods of running.
If any of them could cut across lots, and still cover the entire
course, as well as register faithfully wherever required, that was to
be their option.

Having finished his little fatherly talk, the referee stepped to one
side, and gave the word for the runners to make ready.

Every eye was glued on this or that contestant, according to the
humor of the spectator. Each Allandale visitor saw only Allandale in
that long line, swaying back and forth a trifle, like a reed shaken
in the wind. They could not believe it possible that any other
fellow had the slightest chance of coming in ahead of those
fleet-looted boys upon whose ability they pinned their full trust.

So it was with the Belleville rooters; while, of course, the natives
were certain the prize was already as good as won by Hugh Morgan; or,
it might happen to be, Horatio Juggins, "Just" Smith, or possibly
Nick Lang, the last-named looking ever so confident, as he leaned
over nearly double in his favorite crouch, his fingertips in contact
with the ground, and his knees bent.

Then came the sharp report of the pistol.

"They're off!" involuntarily exclaimed a thousand persons in unison,
as the line of nimble runners was seen to leap into action, and shoot
away with amazing speed.

There were a few little lively brushes in the start, before the
runners settled down to real business. Some were immediately left
behind, but this fact seemed to give them little concern, for they
kept jogging away as though quite happy.

Doubtless, a number had entered with no idea of covering more than a
few miles of the long course. They just enjoyed the excitement, and
the honor of being able to say they had once run in a fifteen-mile
schoolboy Marathon race.

After a bit these novices would drop out, perhaps even hasten back
with various clever excuses for giving up; and having gained the
cheers of their particular coterie of friends they could don a few
more clothes to keep off the chill, and settle back to watch the rest
of the entertainment. Their opinion would naturally be much sought
after, as to the chances of this or that genuine contestant; which
was one of the things they desired.

As it takes considerable time for even fleet-footed runners to go
over a fifteen-mile course, the sensible committee, who knew just
about how long the crowd would have to wait, had provided plenty of
amusement meanwhile.

Interspersed with a number of minor events, such as further sprinting
matches for younger entries, and some more pole vaulting, as well as
Indian club exhibitions of skill, would come the humorous features of
the meet.

These are always popular with the country people; indeed, nearly
everybody seems to welcome them as a diversion calculated to raise
hearty laughter.

There was also keen competition even in the potato race; and the
crowd yelled itself hoarse to see the antics of those who met with
all manner of mishaps when engaged in the hurdle, and the obstacle

The boys who had engaged to try for these prises seemed to "get their
dander up," as some fellow expressed it, and the way they struggled
and vied with one another was "equal to a circus with a brass band."

Although mention may not have been made of the fact up to now, the
Scranton band was giving of its very best from time to time, and the
air throbbed with martial music suitable to a country just then at
war with a foreign nation. It was a fair sort of band in the
bargain, and well worth listening to; so that the music really added
greatly to the enjoyment of the occasion.

When the three-legged race was pulled off the spectators howled their
sympathy with this or that pair of contestants as they hopped along,
now rolling on the ground while bound together, and, at times, even
trying to creep in desperation, when it seemed as though a difference

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