jaybirds, or to stare
ahead to where the blues and greens and purples of the foliage and
rocks merged in the distance. The grade was yet easy and there was no
evidence of strain upon the engine; the tiny rivulets which ran along
the slight ruts at each side of the road betokened nothing to him save
the slight possibility of chains, should a muddy stretch of
straightaway road appear later on. But as yet, that had not occurred,
and Barry was living for the moment.
The road began to twist slightly, with short raises and shorter level
stretches winding among the aspens and spruces, with sudden, jagged
turns about heavy, frowning boulders whose jutting noses seemed to
scrape the fenders of the car, only to miss them by the barest part of
an inch. Suddenly Barry found himself bending forward, eyes still on
the road in spite of his half-turned head, ears straining to catch the
slightest variation of the motor. It seemed to be straining,--yet the
long, suddenly straight stretch of road ahead of him seemed perfectly
level; downhill if anything. More and more labored became the engine.
Barry stopped, and lifting the hood, examined the carbureter. With the
motor idling, it seemed perfect. Once more he started,--only to stop
again and anxiously survey the ignition, test the spark plugs and again
inquire into the activities of the carbureter. At last, reassured, he
walked to the front of the machine, and with the screwdriver pried the
name plate from its position on the radiator and tossed it into the
tumbling, yellow stream beside the road. Then he turned back to the
machine,--only to stop suddenly and blink with surprise. The road was
not level! The illusion which comes to one at the first effort to
conquer a mountain grade had faded now. A few feet away was a deserted
cabin, built upon a level plot of ground and giving to Barry a chance
for comparison, and he could see that his motor had not been at fault.
Now the road, to his suddenly comprehending eyes, rose before him in a
long, steady sweep of difficult grades, upward, steadily upward, with
never a varying downfall, with never a rest for the motor which must
climb it. And this was just the beginning! For Barry could see beyond.
Far in the distance he could make it out, a twisting, turning, almost
writhing thing, cutting into the side of the mountain, a jagged scar,
searing its way up the range in flights that seemed at times to run
almost perpendicular and wh
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