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<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> <h3>PUT TO THE TEST</h3></div> First of all the boys trimmed the branch to a length slightly greater than the distance between axle and axle of the car. Then, near each end, they cut a notch about two inches deep, one to fit over the front and one over the rear axle. Next they placed the branch in position, and with the heavy rope lashed it securely into position. Thus the front and rear axles were kept at the proper distance from each other, and, moreover, the side of the car that was over the broken spring could rest on the stout pole. The driver, who at first had watched their efforts with a derisive grin, took their plan more seriously as he realized the scheme, and now he examined the completed job with an air of surprised respect. “I’ve got to admit that that looks as though it might do the trick,” he admitted, at length. “I’ve seen a lot of roadside repairs in my time, but blest if that hasn’t got ’em all beat. I’ll take 137 it at slow speed the rest of the way, and we’ll see if it will stand up long enough to get us in.” And get them in it did, in spite of much creaking and groaning and bumping. The automobile drew up before a long one-story building, constructed roughly but substantially of unpainted boards. Supper was being served, and they were just in time to partake of a typical lumber camp meal. The big table was laden with huge joints of meat, platters of biscuits and vegetables, while strong, black coffee was served in abundance. After this plates of doughnuts were passed around, greatly to Jimmy’s delight, and for once he could eat all he wanted with nobody to criticize, for the lumbermen were no tyros at this sort of thing, and packed away food in quantities and at a speed that made the boys gape. “Gee!” exclaimed Bob, after they had emerged into the balmy spring air outside, “I used to think that Jimmy could eat; but he can’t even make the qualifying heats with this crowd. You’re outclassed, Doughnuts, beyond the chance of argument.” “I don’t see but what I’ll have to admit it,” sighed his rotund friend. “But I don’t care. It seems like Heaven to be in a place where they serve doughnuts like that. There’s none of this ‘do-have-a-doughnut’ business. Some big husky 138 passes you a platter with about a hundred on it and says, ‘dig in, young feller.’ Those are what I call sweet sounding words.” “And you dug, all right,” remarked Joe, grinning. “I saw you clean one platter off all by your lonesome—at least, you came pretty near it,” he qualified, with some last lingering regard for the truth. “I didn’t anything of the kind! But I only wish I could,” lamented Jimmy. “Never mind, Doughnuts, nobody can deny that you did your best,” laughed Herb. “After you’ve had a little practice with this crowd, I’ll back you against their champion eater any day.” “So would I,” said Bob. “We’ve often talked about entering Jimmy in a pie-eating contest, but I never before thought we could find anybody who would even stand a chance with him. Up here, though, there’s some likely-looking material. Judging from some of those huskies we saw to-night, they might crowd our champion pretty hard.” “You can enter me any time you want to,” said Jimmy. “Even if I didn’t win, I’d have a lot of fun trying. I never really got enough pie at one time yet, and that would be the chance of a lifetime.” At first the boys were more than half joking, but after they had been at the camp a few days 139 and had begun to get acquainted, they let drop hints regarding Jimmy’s prowess that aroused the interest of the lumbermen. He was covertly watched at meal times, and as the bracing woodland air and long hikes combined to give an added edge to his appetite, his ability began to command attention. There were several among the woodsmen who had a reputation for large capacity, but it was soon evident that Jimmy was not to be easily outdistanced in his own particular department. At length interest became so keen that it was decided to stage a real old-fashioned pie-eating contest, to determine whether the champions of the camp were to be outdistanced by a visitor from the city. The cook was approached, and agreed to make all the pies that, in all human probability, would be needed. “Jimmy, you’re in for it now!” exclaimed Herb, dancing ecstatically about his plump friend. “Here’s your chance to make good on all the claims we’ve ever advanced for you. You’re up against a strong field, but my confidence in you is unshaken.” “It simply isn’t possible that our own Jimmy could lose,” grinned Bob. “I’ve seen him wade into pies before this, and I know what he can do.” “I appreciate your confidence, believe me,” said Jimmy. “But I don’t care much whether I win 140 or not. I know I’ll get enough pie for once in my life, and that’s the main thing.” The time for the contest was set for the following evening, the third of their stay. Five lumbermen had been put forward to uphold the reputation of the camp, and they and Jimmy ate no supper that night, waiting until the others had finished. Then the board was cleared, and the cook and his helper entered, bringing in several dozen big pies of all varieties. One of these was placed before each of the contestants, and they could help themselves to as many more as their capacity would admit. The cook, as having the best knowledge of matters culinary, was appointed judge, and was provided with a pad and pencil to check up each contestant. A time limit of two hours was set, the one having consumed the greatest amount of pie in that time to be declared the winner. The cook gave the signal to start, and the contest was on. The lumbermen started off at high speed, and at first wrought tremendous havoc among the pies, while Jimmy ate in his usual calm and placid manner, evidently enjoying himself immensely. Each of the lumbermen had his following, who cheered him on and urged him to fresh endeavors. Bob and Joe and Herb said little, for they had observed 141 Jimmy’s prowess over a period of several years, and knew his staying qualities. At the end of the first half hour their friend was badly outdistanced, but the other contestants had slowed up noticeably, while Jimmy still ate calmly on, no faster and no slower than when he had started. He was only starting on his second pie when all the others were finishing theirs, but the confidence of his three comrades remained unshaken. They observed that the lumbermen chose their third pies very carefully, and started to eat them in a languid way. They were only about half through when Jimmy disposed of his second one, and started on a third. “How do you feel, Jimmy?” asked Herb, with a grin. “Are you still hungry?” “No, not exactly hungry, but it still tastes good,” replied Jimmy calmly. “You sure can make good pies, Cook.” The other contestants essayed feeble grins, but it was easy to see that their pies no longer tasted good to them. More and more slowly they ate, while Jimmy kept placidly on, his original gait hardly slackened. He finished the third pie and started nonchalantly on a fourth. At sight of this, and his confident bearing, two of the other contestants threw up their hands and admitted themselves beaten. 142 “I used to like pie,” groaned one, “but now I hope never to see one again. That youngster must be made of rubber.” “I’ve often said the same thing myself,” chortled Bob. “Just look at him! I believe he’s good for a couple more yet.” Excitement ran high when two of the remaining lumbermen were forced out toward the middle of their fourth pie, leaving only Jimmy and a jolly man of large girth, who before the start had been picked by his companions as the undoubted winner. “Go to it, Jack!” the lumbermen shouted now. “Don’t let the youngster beat you out. He’s pretty near his limit now.” It was true that flaky pie crust and luscious filling had lost their charm for Jimmy, but his opponent was in even worse plight. He managed to finish his fourth pie, but when the cook handed him a fifth, the task proved to be beyond him. “I’ve reached my limit, fellers,” he declared. “If the youngster can go pie number five, he’ll be champion of the camp.” Excitement ran high as Jimmy slowly finished the last crumbs of his fourth pie, and the cook handed him a fifth. Would he take it, or would the contest prove to be a draw? <hr class='major' /> <div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> 143 <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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