Читать книгу Roy Blakeley on the Mohawk Trail - Percy Keese Fitzhugh - Страница 7

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So then we were on the other side.

Harry said, “Now what I want to do is to get up into the Berkshires before dark—that’s about a hundred miles. As long as we’ve got sleeping accommodations, I’d like to keep going all night. I’ll drive till dark. Who’ll take the wheel then? Keep going, that’s the motto.”

Brent said, “I’ll take the wheel.”

Harry said, “It doesn’t make any difference where you go.”

“Then I’m not likely to get lost,” Brent said. Harry said, “Just keep going so we can make it a continuous run—as near as possible. The more we run the sooner we’ll cover thirty thousand miles.”

“That’s very true, Harry,” Brent said.

“I tell you what let’s do,” I said; “let’s be in shifts. While three are sleeping the other three will be in the car. That way the driver will have company.”

“Good idea,” said Harry. “How will we divide?”

“I don’t care,” I said, “as long as I’m awake while Pee-wee’s asleep.”

“Same here,” said Hervey.

“Same here,” said Brent.

“Ditto,” said Ginger Snap.

“That’s me,” said Harry.

I said, “All right, there’ll be two shifts; one shift will consist of Pee-wee.”

“Then I can eat the portions of three people,” Pee-wee shouted.

“That’s the difficulty,” Brent said; “it wouldn’t do. One whole shift would be dead in a couple of hours.”

Harry said, “Will you cut out that nonsense and let’s get this thing settled?”

“I will drive the car to-night,” Brent said. “As long as it doesn’t make any difference where I go, I’ll go there.”

“One place is as good as another if not more so,” I told him.

So this is the way we fixed it. We divided into two shifts. One shift was Harry, Mr. Snapp and Hervey. The other one was Brent, Pee-wee and I. We settled it that Harry would drive in the daytime, and Mr. Snapp and Hervey would ride in the car so as to give the others a chance to sleep in the trailer. At night Brent would drive, and Pee-wee and I would be in the car while the others slept in the trailer. We could sleep if we wanted to, but we had to be ready to help Brent if he needed us to change a tire or anything. Mr. Snapp knew how to drive so sometimes he would relieve Harry and sometimes he would relieve Brent—just the way they happened to feel. Harry said we’d see how that plan worked out. And believe me we did see.

About three o’clock in the afternoon, just as we were coming to a lot of nice mountains and things, Harry stopped the car long enough so Brent and Pee-wee and I could go in the trailer. He only stopped ten seconds. So then the three of us all went to sleep in the trailer. It was nice and comfortable on those canvas cots. We threw one of the mattresses on the floor so Pee-wee could sleep on it there. Oh, boy, bumpetty bump, but just the same we fell asleep all right because we were good and tired of riding.

So now comes an intermission of about five hours while we were asleep and nothing happened. Pretty soon I heard them shouting to us from the car, saying we should get our supper. Gee whiz, nobody ever has to shout at me to do that. I’ll do it of my own accord.

Brent was rubbing his eyes and saying, “I think we’re in the Berkshires—I’m sure it’s not the Alps, it must be the Berkshires.”

“Where?” Pee-wee shouted, sitting up on the floor half-asleep. “Whatshwere—where are they?”

“They’re under the car, we’re going over them,” I said. “Wake up, we’re going to eat. We have to go in the car pretty soon to give the others a chance in here.”

“Whasberkshre pills,” he said, all the while groping for one of his shoes.

“Hills, not pills,” I shouted at him. “We’re in the western part of Massachusetts.”

“Whose massachesnuts?” he wanted to know. Then I gave him a shove to wake him up. Honest, if Pee-wee was dead he’d be more alive than he is when he’s asleep—he could sleep on a picket fence, that kid.

It was awful funny, Harry was driving fast like he always does and the Happy Home Trailer was bouncing this way and that and Pee-wee was rolling around trying to find his other shoe, and I was staggering around trying to get my jacket on, and Brent was sitting on one of the cots looking awful funny bobbing up and down. All the while he looked very soberlike with his spectacles half-way down his nose—oh, boy, I had to laugh.

I said, “How do you feel after your sleep?”

He said, “Oh, I’m having my ups and downs. I don’t like to say anything against a happy home, but this is not the way a home should behave. There—is—should be—no place—place like—bump!”

“If we had a churn we could make some butter,” I said.

Then I called to Harry in the car to have a heart and take it easy, because we wanted to eat.

I shouted, “What do you think you are, an egg beater or something? The cans are rolling all over the floor and everything. How do you suppose we’re going to——”

All of a sudden, bump, we went. I guess it was one of the Berkshires we went over.

“All right back there?” Harry called.

“Sure, it looks like the World War,” I shouted.

A lot he cared. Gee whiz, I’ve been on merry-go-rounds and scenic railroads and shoot-the-shoots and Fords and everything. But if you took all those things together and mixed them up with an earthquake and poured a volcano all over them, it wouldn’t be as bad as the ride we were having in that Happy Home Trailer.

Pee-wee said, “Let’s not try to cook, let’s just eat things that are all ready—anyway, I know where my mouth is all right.”

“Yes, but can you reach it?” Brent asked him.

“Sure you can, just follow the sound,” I said.

“One thing, anyway, I’m glad I’ve got my compass,” Pee-wee said.

“Sure, you ought to be able to find your mouth with that,” I told him.

“I mean if we want to know where we’re going,” he said, all the while trying to open a can of beans.

“We don’t,” I said. “We want to eat, that’s all I’m thinking about.”

“I guess Harry thinks we’re a glass of malted milk or something, the way he shakes us up,” Brent said.

Gee whiz, we had some job eating supper. But anyway we did pretty well because we ate the kind of things you can eat without spilling them. After a little while Harry shouted back and asked us if supper was over.

Brent said, “Sure, look on the floor. Can’t you see it’s all over? A few things happened to fly into our mouths by accident.”

“A lot flew into mine,” Pee-wee shouted.

Even if that supper had been in a wild west show it couldn’t have been any wilder. Pretty soon Harry slowed up the car and came back and took a look at us—gee whiz, he was laughing. I suppose he turned the wheel over to Mr. Snapp so he wouldn’t have to stop the car.

Brent said, “No police department ever had a shake-up like this. Now I know how a milk shake must feel. The Berkshires seem to be very rough to-night. Where are we, anyway?”

Harry said, “We just passed through Wassaic.”

“You mean over it,” Brent said.

Harry said, “Come on, you fellows, hurry up and get in the car and Brent’ll drive while we have supper and then get a little sleep.”

So then Brent and Pee-wee and I hustled into the Hunkerjunk touring car, and Harry and Hervey and Mr. Snapp climbed into the trailer. The car didn’t stop at all but they just slowed down while we changed. The engine of the car reminded me of Pee-wee’s mouth because it didn’t stop at all.

That’s the end of this chapter, but from now on they’re going to get worse and worse if not more so. And whatever you do don’t ever stop in the middle of a chapter because you’ll never be able to catch us again.