University of Virginia Library

23. CHAPTER XXIII
THE RIDE TO BOSTON

Ned found Mr. Wakefield, the athletic instructor, in the gymnasium of the club house. The boy hastily told him of the trouble, not however mentioning Jack's name.

"And, Mr. Wakefield," said Ned, in great distress. "If we can't get those carburetor parts we can't race."

"I'll do all I can to help you," said Mr. Wakefield. "Take my machine and welcome."

Ned really had quite a task before him. It was a long ride to Boston, and there would be no moon. Besides the roads were not of the best. It was after four o'clock when he secured Mr. Wakefield's machine, and a half hour was lost in oiling it up, and seeing that it was in shape for the lengthy trip.

"I do not know whether to let you go or not," said Mr. Slade, when Ned broached the subject to him.

"I really must go, father," and Ned spoke so earnestly that Mr. Slade was more than half persuaded.

"Well, I suppose it is hard to have to think of giving up the race" he said at length. "And it seems to be the only way to do. So you may go, but be very careful."

"I will," promised Ned.

He prepared himself for the trip, and was about to start from his house, where he had taken Mr. Wakefield's machine, when Bob and Jerry came along. They had wheeled their motors to their houses, and brought Ned's with them.

"Are you off?"asked Jerry.

"Just ready to start," was the reply.

"You ought to be able to get the parts in any automobile store," said Jerry. "The only bad feature of the trip will be coming home. I wish I was going along."

"Well, I haven't any time to lose," said Ned. "so here goes!"

He leaped into the saddle, started the machine off by means of the pedals and soon was pushing down the road.

The start was made about half past five o'clock, on a pleasant afternoon. The sun shone through a hazy mist, and, though it had been warm, it was cooler now. Because it was of an earlier pattern, Mr. Wakefield's machine was not as speedy as any of the boys', and Ned realized he would have to be longer on the journey than if he had his own fast motor.

"But I'm in luck to be able to get any machine at all," he said to himself.

For the first ten miles Ned had no trouble, as he was familiar with the road. He had been riding over an hour when he came to a small village which, he learned by inquiry, was thirty miles from the big city.

He rode out of the little town, and then, coming to a place where several roads branched off was puzzled which one to take, as there was no sign posts. No house was near and no one seemed to be traveling.

"I'll take the middle road," thought Ned. "It's trusting to chance, but it's all I can do."

He had ridden perhaps four miles when he met a farmer driving a bony horse attached to a dilapidated wagon. Poor, thin and old as the horse was it seemed frightened at the sight of the machine, and inclined to rear on its hind legs and bolt.

"Is this the road to Boston?" asked Ned, knowing he had little time to waste in talk, however pleasant it might be.

"Wa'al ye kin git to it this way, but it'll take ye a long time. Ye're going in a opposite direction. Ye'd oughter taken the left hand road back there at the forks."

"Thanks," said Ned, briefly, turning his machine in readiness to go back and take the right road.

"Hold on! Maybe I can make some kind of a trade with ye for that threshing machine ye got!" called the old man, but Ned, with a friendly wave of his hand, started back to regain the right road.

He resolved to be more careful next time in taking roads where there was more than one. So, when he again reached places where the highways diverged he waited until some one came along, or he went back to the last house he had passed, and inquired.

He rode on for two hours longer. It was getting a little dusky now because of the clouds, and Ned began to fear he was in for a storm. He wished he was at his destination, for, if worst came to worst, he could stay in Boston all night, and start back in the morning. But he soon saw evidences that he was nearing some large city. Houses became more frequent, and every now and then he would pass through some settlement or good sized suburb. Then, off in the distance, he descried the Hub City.

"There's Boston!" he cried. "Now for an automobile or motor store."

Getting on to good roads he speeded his machine up as fast as it would go, which was not overly rapid, and was soon riding through the streets of the historic city.

He kept his eyes open, and presently saw an automobile shop. The man was just closing up.

"Wait a minute!" called Ned. "Hold on! I want to get something!"

"You'll have to be quick," said the man.

Ned lost no time in telling what he desired.

"Here's what you want," said the dealer. "We got some new ones in to-day."

"Thanks," said Ned fervently, as he paid for the articles. He stowed the precious parts safely away in his pockets. Then he began to think of supper. It was nearly ten o'clock, but he found a small restaurant open, and made a hasty meal. Then, lighting his own acetylene gas lamp, which he had brought along in place of the oil affair Mr. Wakefield carried, the boy prepared for his homeward trip.

This was a very different thing from riding along in the afternoon and early evening. If he was in doubt of a road he could find plenty of persons to ask. But after dark every one seemed to go to bed, as he noticed when he passed from the immediate Boston suburbs into the country. Several times Ned had to get off his machine and, with his lamp for a torch, hunt around for a sign post to tell him which road to take.

Once he came to where three roads divided. He could find no friendly pointing finger to tell him which one to take, and there was not a house in sight. The last residence he had passed was half a mile back. He did not relish going on the wrong highway until he met some one to set him right, nor did he want to retrace his journey.

"If only some one would come along now," he murmured.

By dint of making inquiries at many farm houses Ned managed to cover about twenty miles of his homeward trip. Then, as it grew later, the friendly lights that shone from the lonely roadside residences went out, and Ned began to think his trip was going to be a rather unpleasant one at the close, although it was still fairly clear. He did not like to awaken people up to ask them about the road, and it was evident that nearly every one in the country had gone to rest.

It was very dark. His gas lamp gave a brilliant thread of light directly in front of him, but that was all. It was quiet, also, save for the chug-chug of his motor. Now and then an owl would hoot, and the sound, strange and weird, seemed to chill Ned's blood, though he knew what it was.

Once again the old trouble of coming to two roads, and not knowing which to follow, confronted him. It was close to midnight, and the country was so deserted that for the last two miles he had not passed a house. Nor did he know how far in advance he might have to go before reaching one.

"Shall I go to the right or left?" Ned asked himself. "I'll trust to luck, I'll toss a stone up, and take the road it falls nearest to."

He had dismounted from his wheel, and standing at the fork of the roads, tossed a pebble into the air. It fell on the left path.

"The left it is!" He got on his machine, rode about a quarter of a mile, and then, with a loud noise his rear tire burst. It came with such suddenness and gave Ned such a shock that he nearly tumbled from the motor. "Here's luck!" he exclaimed. He quickly discovered that the break was a bad enough one to mend in daylight to say nothing of attempting it in the darkness.

"I guess I'm booked to stay here all night," the boy said. "If I could find a farm house near by I'd ask to stay there."

But he did not feel like pushing the heavy motor along the road in a search.

"It's warm, and I can stay out all night," Ned thought. "I'd like to get in shelter though."

He paused in the middle of the dark road and looked about him. Off to the left were fields.

"Looks like a lot of hay in that meadow," he told himself. "If it is that will be just the thing to crawl into and go to sleep." He walked closer and peered at the dark objects that had attracted his attention. He climbed the fence, and discovered that his surmise was right.

Pulling and hauling the motor he got it through the bars. Then, selecting a big mound of the fragrant dried grass, Ned made a hole in it, crawled in, curled up and, in spite of his queer bed, was soon sound asleep.