"Well, then, I can!" cried Dick.
"You can? What do you mean?"
"I mean that my chums and I are going to take a tour to California. I can combine business with pleasure, and file those papers for you. If I can do it in time, you'll get a chance to recover your fortune."
"And will you do that for me?"
"I certainly will!"
Mr. Wardell clasped Dick's hand in a hearty grasp.
"Look here, old man," he said feelingly, "you've done too much for me already."
"Oh, pshaw! I haven't done anything worth mentioning!" exclaimed Dick, who disliked having a fuss made over him. "I bought your caras much for myself as to help you out of a hole."
"Oh, it isn't that I mean!" cried Mr. Wardell, quickly. "Dick, I've a confession to make. You may not know it, but you saved my life that day on the railroad tracks."
"Saved your life?"
"Yes, I was down and out! I didn't see a thing to live for, and I wasn't going to look for a reason. I was going to cash in when you and your chum came along, and I didn't have the nerve to do what I was going to do—shuffle off this mortal coil. You saved my life, Dick Hamilton, and now you are going to save my fortune for me. You're doing too much!" and the visitor seemed much affected.
"That's all right now, Mr. Wardell," said Dick, after a rather painful pause. "I'm sure I'm only too glad that I can do something for you. It isn't going to be any trouble—filing this paper, as it's on my way. And, as for saving your life——"
"Oh, you did it—there's no question about that!" interrupted the other. "I was miserable enough to do anything rash, but the kind way in which you spoke to me, and the cheerfulness of yourself, and your chum, made me ashamed to do what I had contemplated. It started me on a new road, thinking of you, and I made up my mind I'd begin over again.
"Now it might seem to you that I ought to look after this matter myself—going out there and filing this paper—but the truth of the matter is that I'm quite disgusted with myself—not knowing enough to take care of my money when I had it. I deserve to lose it. But if you can save it I'm willing to give you whatever share your lawyer thinks fair."
"I'm not doing it for that," declared Dick."I'm doing it for—well, I'll tell you later," he finished. But to himself he said:
"I'm doing this for the honor of my family. If he ever finds out it was my uncle who ruined him he'll not think much of my father and myself, even if I was instrumental in saving his life. No, I've got to keep still about that part of it, and savehisfortune for the honor ofourfamily. And I'll do it, too, in spite of Uncle Ezra!"
"Well, it's awfully good of you," went on Mr. Wardell, after a pause. "Now I'll see our old family lawyer, Mr. William Tunison, and have him arrange with you. You say the papers have to be filed on a certain date?"
"Yes."
"Then why can't they be sent out there, and held until it is time to present them to the court?"
"Because the law in this matter is peculiar. The documents have to be filed between certain dates—they can't be presented before the one, nor after the other. There is a period of a few days during which they can legally be presented to the courts, and in that time only. If you sent them out there now they might get filed away in some pigeon-hole, and be forgotten until it was too late."
"I see."
"So the only thing to do is for some one to look after the matter personally. And I'll do it!"
"It's very good of you. I suppose I might do it myself, but I hate to lose this SouthAmerican chance. It may never come again, and I want to show folks that, even if I have lost one fortune, I can make another. Otherwise I'd go West myself."
"You don't need to. I'll act as your agent," promised Dick.
"Very well, then. I'll arrange with my lawyer. I was so angry and discouraged when I found that my fortune was wiped out that I didn't go into details over it. All I knew was that a fellow named Larabee had cleaned me out. A queer sort of chap he was, too. About as mean as they make 'em, I thought, and quite a financier into the bargain. Ever meet him?"
"I—I have heard of him," stammered Dick. Then he quickly added: "Suppose you give me power of attorney to act for you, and a letter to your lawyer. Then I can see him myself," for Dick did not want to get on dangerous ground as regards Uncle Ezra. "Then you can go to South America whenever you get ready, and I'll look after the rest," he added.
"It seems sort of cowardly, to run away and leave you to face the music," and Mr. Wardell hesitated.
"Not at all!" Dick assured him. "I'll be glad of the chance to do this business for you. It will be good training for me. My father is willing. And," Dick added to himself, "it will give me a chance to get back at Uncle Ezra for some of the mean things he has done to me."
"All right," spoke Mr. Wardell after a moment or two of thought. "I'll give you power to act for me, as my attorney, or representative, or whatever is necessary. And I'll write to my lawyer. He can fix up the papers. Do you want him to come here?"
"No, I am going to New York in a few days, to arrange some details about our trip. I'll see him then. Will you stay to dinner, and meet my father? We can put you up for the night."
"No, thank you. I'll stay for dinner, but I must go back to New York on the midnight train. There is no telling when this South American berth may be open for me."
A little later Mr. Wardell and Mr. Hamilton went over details with Dick, and it was arranged that the latter should complete his plans with Mr. Tunison, the lawyer.
A few days later saw our hero once more in New York. He went by train, as his chums had not yet arrived from their homes, and Dick did not want to drive his big car by himself.
Mr. Tunison proved to be an agreeable gentleman, who readily entered into Dick's plan to try to recover the Wardell fortune.
"Though I'm afraid you're going to have a hard task, Mr. Hamilton," the lawyer said. "This Mr. Larabee is a hard customer. By the way, he is some relation to you; isn't he? I've been looking him up."
"He is," admitted Dick, "but I'm not proudof it. I would just as soon Mr. Wardell did not know it—at least, until I am successful. I am doing this, in a measure, for the honor of my family."
"Hum! Well, I'll keep your secret. Now it appears from the investigation I have made since I got Mr. Wardell's letter, that this Mr. Larabee isn't appearing in this matter openly himself."
"No?" asked Dick in some surprise.
"No. Whether he is ashamed of what he did, or whether he has sold out his claim to someone else, I can't learn. But he is represented by a Mr. Harrison Black, and I want to warn you against him."
"Warn me?"
"Yes. Mr. Black, while a lawyer, is one of the most unscrupulous attorneys I have ever met, or had dealings with. He is a sharper, just keeping well enough within the law not to be caught. Now, he is handling this matter for your uncle, it seems, and he knows about this time limit."
"I suppose so."
"Yes. He'll do all in his power to prevent us from filing the papers that would give Mr. Wardell a chance to claim his fortune again. So you must be on your guard."
"I will. What sort of a man is this Mr. Black?"
"I will describe him to you," and the lawyer did so. "But he probably will not appear openly himself," resumed Mr. Tunison. "He has othershyster lawyers who do his evil work for him. Probably you will encounter one of his tools, and as he has a number I can't say which one it will be. Only be on your guard, Mr. Hamilton."
"I will."
"Now then, I will give you the necessary papers, which must be filed with the Supreme Court not before September first and not later than midnight September third."
"Three days!" exclaimed Dick.
"That is all. A short period. To be sure of making no mistake, you had better file them the first day. Don't take any chances. At the same time, it would not be fair to you to have you give up all the pleasure of your trip to be in San Francisco before the first day of next September.
"I understand you are going to make a tour in the big car Mr. Wardell had built for himself before his fortune was lost. My advice is to do this, and so arrange your programme that you will reach San Francisco September first. That will give you plenty of time. I have a lawyer friend there, Mr. Whitfield Ainslie, who will attend to the California legal end for you. Now I will prepare the papers."
It did not take long, and after getting a few more detailed instructions from Mr. Tunison, Dick left for Hamilton Corners. When he got home he found Paul and Innis waiting for him.
"Well, when do we start?" asked Paul.
"Yes; we've been doing nothing but dream of this trip!" cried the other.
"We'll leave this week!" declared Dick.
And he was as good as his word. His plans were completed, the route finally decided on, and, with the auto thoroughly in shape, the boys started off early one morning, Grit sitting proudly beside Dick, who was at the wheel.
"Take care of yourself, my boy," cautioned Mr. Hamilton, as he shook hands with his son and his chums.
"I will, Dad. If Uncle Ezra asks for me—well, tell him I'll see him later!"
"I will. Have you the papers safe?"
"Yes, they're in the auto where no one can find them. I'll write as often as I can. All ready, boys?"
"Let her go, Dick!" cried Paul.
"Start off!" exclaimed Innis Beeby.
Dick pressed the button of the electric starter. There was a hum, a throb of the powerful motor, and the big car moved slowly out of the yard. Dick and his chums were off on their long trip.
"What's our time-table, Dick?" asked Paul, as they swung out of Hamilton Corners into the less-populated country.
"We haven't any. That is, we're not going to try to make any special time, as long as we get to 'Frisco by September first," for Dick had told his chums of the endeavor he was going to make to save Mr. Wardell's fortune.
"What's our programme, then?" Innis Beeby wanted to know. "Are we going to run along, hit or miss, or have we some definite plan?"
"I thought I gave you our route."
"Well, old man, we went over it so often, and made so many changes, that I don't know now whether we're going by way of New Orleans or Alaska."
"More like Alaska this time of year!" exclaimed Paul. "Shall I start the electric fan, Dick?"
"Yes, do. There isn't much breeze to-day," and soon a big electric fan near the roof of the touring car was stirring the air, making the three travelers more comfortable.
"This is the schedule the way I have workedit out," went on Dick, as he steered out to avoid a load of hay being driven along the country road. "We'll go to Buffalo, and from there on to Cleveland. Next, in the order as they come, will be Chicago, Des Moines, Omaha, Denver, Leadville, Salt Lake City, Carson City, Sacramento, and then 'Frisco."
"All good places to visit," observed Innis, reflectively.
"Well, we may not strike all of them," Dick went on. "If we have to change our route because of bad roads, or from other causes, we may cut out the big cities, and just go somewhere near them. But that route will give us plenty of travel."
"I should say so!" agreed Paul. "Nearly four thousand miles, I guess. Well, your car looks good for it, Dick!"
And indeed theLast Wordappeared able to navigate to the Arctic regions if called on to do so.
"Are we going to put up at a hotel for lunch?" asked Innis, when they had gone on several miles farther. "That isn't a hint that I'm hungry!" he hastened to add, "but I was just wondering, Dick."
"I think we'll try camping out a bit," said that young man. "We might as well get used to it, and the weather is good now."
"That's right," agreed Paul.
"I have some grub stowed away in back,"Dick resumed. "We will stop at some butcher shop and grocery in the next town, get some steak and bacon, and cook it on our electric stove. Then we can eat it alongside the road. There will be plenty of chances to go to hotels later."
The boys laughed and joked, thoroughly enjoying themselves in the big touring car. It rode easily, even over rough roads, and it was roomy enough so that they could move about in it, not having to stay cramped up in one seat. Paul and Innis took turns at driving, as Dick wanted them to become familiar with the mechanism.
* * * * *
But perhaps if Dick and his chums could have been made aware of a little scene that had taken place in the office of a certain lawyer in Dankville that morning they would not have felt so care-free and light-hearted. About the time Dick started off on his tour a crabbed old man might have been seen going into this law office, on the door of which was the name:
Harrison Black.
"Ah, good morning, Mr. Larabee!" the lawyer greeted his visitor. "Come right in," and the two were closeted together for some time. When they came out, Mr. Black said:
"Now don't you have a bit of worry, Mr. Larabee. I'll attend to the matter for you, and this young man will never see his money again."
"He don't deserve to, anyhow. Folks that is as careless as he was, don't deserve no pity."
"That's right, so they don't, Mr. Larabee. Ha! ha! You have exactly the right idea."
"And now about this foolish young nephew of mine," went on Mr. Larabee. "I didn't hear all he and his father talked about that night when I came down on 'em unexpected-like, but I'm sure my nephew has some crazy notion about helping this Wardell. It mustn't be allowed—he must be stopped!" and Uncle Ezra clenched his fist and struck a desk a smart blow.
"I agree with you, Mr. Larabee. He must be stopped. But does he know of this time limit?"
"He might. I wouldn't take any chances. He's fooled me more than once. Don't take any chances, Black."
"I won't. If he has any papers to file inside the time limit, he won't be allowed to do so. We'll take some means to stop him. Wait, I'll call one of my men who—er—who attends to all these little matters for me. Jake, here, I want you!"
From an outer room came a man with a hard face, and a jaw like that of a prize fighter. He had little, shifty eyes that seemed never to look one in the face.
"Jake this is Mr. Larabee," went on Mr. Black. "This is Jake Morton," to Uncle Ezra. "He'll see that your foolish nephew doesn't do anything rash."
"That's what I want."
"It—er—it may cost something, Mr. Larabee."
"Cost something?" and Uncle Ezra clapped his hand on his pocket. "Not much, I hope!"
"Well, of course your nephew has started off in an auto, I believe you mentioned that."
"Yes, in a great big touring car like a steam coach—him and two other spendthrifts. Oh, the money they waste!" and Uncle Ezra shook his head.
"Well, if they're in an auto, I presume they'll have to be followed in an auto," went on Mr. Black, "and auto hire costs money."
"Couldn't—couldn't they be followed on a bicycle?" asked the crabbed old man. "I wouldn't mind buying a second-hand bicycle for your man, and he could follow them on that. Bicycle riding is healthy."
"Say, if you expect me to trail along after a touring car on a bicycle—and a second-hand one at that—you can get some one else to do this job!" exclaimed Jake Morton. "I'm done! What! Maybe chase half way to San Francisco on an old wheel? I guess not."
"Wa'al, maybe I could stand a new one," whined Uncle Ezra.
"No, nor a new one, either. It's a touring car for me, or nothing!"
"Oh, the sinful waste of money!" exclaimed Mr. Larabee. "The awful waste!"
"You'd much better spend a few dollars to hire a touring car for my clerk than to lose all this money," said Mr. Black. "And, mind you, if your nephew files that paper it may result in a lawsuit, which would be very expensive, and, at the same time might go against you."
"Well, then, if you think it wise, perhaps I'd better. I don't want to lose this money I've worked so hard for."
A smile of something like contempt curled the lip of Mr. Black. He knew just how hard Mr. Larabee had "worked" for his money, for many a mortgage he had foreclosed for him, and many a transaction he had consummated—transactions that never got into the law courts.
"Then if you don't want to run any chances, you'd better do as I say," went on the lawyer. "My man will look after matters. You say your nephew and his chums have gone off on a tour. Do you know the route they are going to take?"
"Not exactly, for, though I looked and listened the young spendthrifts changed their plans so often I wasn't able to keep track of them. But they are going to the main cities. Why, would you believe it, they'd think nothing of going hundreds of extra miles, just to get to some place to see the sights! And gasoline is gettin' more and more expensive every day, to say nothin' of tires. Oh, the waste of it!"
"Well, I suppose your nephew is well off?"
"Yes; too much so for his own good!"snapped Uncle Ezra. "If I had the handlin' of his wealth, there'd be a different story to tell."
"I can well believe that," remarked the lawyer, drily. "Now to get down to business. Pay attention, Jake Morton. You will have to follow this party of young fellows in the big touring car as best you can, since Mr. Larabee doesn't know the exact route they will take."
"No, I couldn't find out," mumbled Uncle Ezra, "though I heard something of Buffalo, Cleveland, and so on."
"I guess I can get on their trail, all right," said the lawyer's henchman. "If it's a big touring car, as you describe, it ought to be pretty conspicuous. Folks will notice it and I can make inquiries as I go along."
"Yes, but keep your wits about you. Don't let them suspect, for they are sharp lads, I take it."
"Oh, I'll play foxy, all right. I'll hang back for a few days and watch my chance."
"But don't delay too long," cautioned Uncle Ezra. "Automobile hire is expensive, and I'm not as rich as Mortimer Hamilton. Don't go wastin' my money."
"Well, I'm not going to starve on the trip," laughed the man. "I've got to live decently if I'm to pose as a touring autoist."
"Oh, dear!" groaned Uncle Ezra. "This is going to cost a pile of money—a dreadful pile!"
"But you're going to make a lot out of it!" insisted the shyster lawyer.
"Maybe—maybe," assented the old man. "And say," he went on to Morton, "you'll get that paper away from him. I know he has some sort of a paper to file, to cheat me out of my hard-earned money. I was sharp enough to find that out, though he and his father think they fooled me. But I was too much for 'em—I was so—ha! ha!" and he chuckled so that he went into a coughing fit, and had to be thumped on the back to bring his breath into his lungs again.
"You—you'll get that paper; won't you?" he pleaded.
"Sure I will," declared Jake Morton. "And they won't know I have it until it's too late to file it."
"Good!" exclaimed Uncle Ezra. "And maybe, while you are at it, you could get that auto away from my nephew, or wreck it, or something like that."
"Good land, Mr. Larabee! You don't mean that; do you?" cried Mr. Black. "Wreck your nephew's auto?"
"Oh, not with him in it, of course. But if it could be disabled some way, maybe he'd desert it, and we could get it, and fix it up and sell it. I might get enough out of it to pay for the expenses of this trip, for it's goin' to cost a lot—a dreadful lot."
"I wouldn't advise you to try that," said the lawyer, significantly. "We're taking enoughchances as it is. You don't want to make yourself criminally liable; do you?"
"Oh, my good land, no! Sakes alive! No! no!" cried Uncle Ezra. "I've always kept within the law. We ain't goin' to do nothin' unlawful; are we?" and he gazed anxiously at the lawyer.
"Oh, no. I'm not any too fond, myself, of overstepping the law. But I'll take all it allows!" he declared, thrusting out a lean and claw-like hand.
"Oh, so will I!" exclaimed Uncle Ezra. "All the law allows—yes; all the law allows! Ha! ha! I guess you'll find, Nephew Richard," he went on, "that two of us can play at that little game you started. Two of us; yes-um! We'll see who wins out! Ha! ha!" and, chuckling in a cackling sort of voice, Mr. Larabee left the lawyer's office, while Mr. Black and his henchman looked at each other.
"What do you think of him?" asked Mr. Black.
"I don't like to think. But, as long as he pays our price, we'll do his work; eh?"
"Yes. Now come in here and we'll talk over what's best to do. We must get that paper away from Dick Hamilton."
"Say, this is a little bit of all right; isn't it?"
"It certainly is. I'll have some more of that steak."
"Another morsel of bacon would just about suit me."
"Those eggs aren't so bad. That electric stove cooks quick enough."
"I should say yes. Any more coffee left?"
Question and comment thus went back and forth among the three chums as they sat in Dick Hamilton's big touring car, under a great oak tree at one side of a pleasant country road.
They had traveled many miles from Hamilton Corners before stopping at a village grocery and meat market and buying what they wanted for dinner.
"Going camping?" the man had asked them, as he wrapped up the parcels.
"No, just on a tour," Dick said.
"Oh, then you're going to cook over an open fire?"
"No, we're going to cook it right in the auto," the young autoist said.
"Ha! ha!" laughed the man. "Joking; eh?Well, I know you auto fellows have some new wrinkles, but I didn't think you were up to that. Going to broil the steak on your over-heated engine, I suppose, and make coffee with the hot water from your radiator? Ha! ha!"
"Not exactly," replied Dick. "Though that might be done. No, we have a stove of our own," and he showed the man the little electrical apparatus in the rear of the enclosed tonneau, on which a good meal could be prepared.
And the boys had just finished their culinary operations and were now enjoying the fruits of their labors. They were in a secluded place, and the day was all that could be desired. The little table had been let down from the roof, and the three sat about it, laughing and joking.
Farmers and others passing along the highway paused to look in some astonishment, not only at the big car, which was of a type and size seldom seen, but at the boys themselves, who seemed to be taking their ease in regular Gypsy fashion, yet in a style never approached by the dark-skinned nomads.
"Some class to this," remarked Paul, as he passed his plate for more steak and bacon.
"I should say yes," agreed Innis. "I say, old boy, you're not going to take that egg; are you?"
"Why not, I'd like to know?" retorted Paul, pausing in the act of helping himself to a nicely browned one, nestling amid a pile of crisp bacon.
"Because you've had three, and that's mine—or Dick's, if he wants it."
"No, I don't want it," said the latter. "But it isn't worth quarreling over. We can fry some more."
"I guess we'll have to if Paul is going to develop that kind of an appetite," remarked Innis. "Three eggs, twice on the steak, and no end of bacon——"
"I did not!" snapped Paul.
"Did not what?" asked Innis, with a smile.
"Did not have three eggs. It was only two, and——"
"Well, this'll be three," retorted Innis.
"Oh, well, then I'll split it with you," and Paul cut the egg in half, thus settling the dispute.
"Well, there's one consolation in eating this way," remarked Dick, as the auto-meal came to an end. "We don't have many dishes to wash," and he tossed from the window of the car the wooden plates from which they had dined.
"That's right," agreed Paul. "Washing dishes is the worst part of camp life. Some day I'm going to invent a set of dishes that wash themselves."
"These are just as good," said Dick. Though there was in the auto a small set of porcelain dishes, the boys had decided that, except for food that actually needed other styles, they would use the wooden plates, that could be thrown away after each meal. They carried a supply of these,as well as paper napkins, and more could be bought whenever needed.
Of course there were pans and other utensils for the stove, and these were cleaned after being used, and stowed away in the proper compartments.
"Well, I guess we're all ready to start again," announced Dick, as they got out and walked about a bit, pausing to get a drink at a roadside spring.
"Where to?" asked Paul.
"I'll take a look at our map and see," went on the young millionaire. "I think we can make Hosford by evening, and stay there over night. There's no use journeying after dark until we have to."
"That's right; not until we find we have to put on speed to file that paper in time," added Paul.
"But is there a hotel in Hosford?" inquired Innis.
"We'll not bother with a hotel," suggested Dick. "As long as we have the bunks in our auto we might as well use them. We'll just pull up at some quiet place, off the road, get our supper, and turn in. We're independent of hotels, unless we want to go to one now and again to have more room to stretch. That's why I got this kind of a car."
"Sure enough!" exclaimed Innis. "We'll bunk here then."
And they did that night. At first it was a bitawkward, but soon they got used to the not too large apartment into which the auto was turned, and they found the bunks very comfortable.
The curtains were drawn over the glass doors and windows and with an electric light glowing in the roof, the boys went to sleep, well satisfied with their first day's trip.
They were under way soon after breakfast and traveled a good distance by noon, stopping for their meal in a little grove of trees just off a country road.
"What's the programme for to-day?" asked Paul, as they started off again, leaving a pile of wooden plates behind them as a souvenir of their stop.
"Hand me that road map, and I'll decide," spoke Dick. "It's in the flap pocket of that side door, nearest you, Paul."
Paul pulled from the leather compartment on the door an envelope, and handed it to Dick.
"No, that isn't it," said the young man. "Those are the papers I'm going to file with the court to save Mr. Wardell's property. The map is in the same place, in an envelope just like that. Now you've got it," as Paul pulled out another bulky envelope.
"Do you think it's safe to keep the law papers in such a place?" asked Innis.
"I don't see why not," replied Dick. "I don't want them in my pocket, for they might slip out when I walk around. And if I put themanywhere else in the auto I couldn't get at them in a hurry in case we caught fire, or had any accident. No one would think of looking in there for them, and if we leave the auto at any time we can take the documents with us. Now let's have a squint at this map. I think we can make Flagtown to-night."
"Flagtown!" exclaimed Innis, looking over his chum's shoulder. "That's quite a run."
"Well, we haven't tried out this car much as to speed yet," replied Dick. "There are good roads to Flagtown, and we might as well see what she can do. We'll hit up the pace a little."
And they did make Flagtown, theLast Wordproving that she had speed as well as other qualities, though she was essentially not a racing car.
Supper followed, in due time, and then, sitting about the auto in the quiet of the evening, the boys talked over their adventures of the day, and speculated on what lay before them.
"It will be a good joke on your Uncle Ezra, to get Mr. Wardell's fortune away from him; won't it?" remarked Paul.
"It sure will," declared Dick. "And the best of it is that he doesn't know that I'm going to do it. Uncle Ezra is pretty sharp, but I think we got ahead of him this time."
But if Dick could have known that a few miles back, in an auto that had closely followed the course of the big touring car since the day before, was a certain mean-faced man, perhaps the youngmillionaire would not have felt so confident. Especially could he have known that the man in the rear auto was constantly making inquiries about theLast Word—when she had passed through certain towns, and which way she was headed.
But knowing none of these things, Dick and his chums turned into the bunks with a feeling of peacefulness and ease, and slept soundly. All too soundly, it would seem. Too soundly to have heard a car pull up behind them shortly after midnight.
The car came to a halt some distance away from Dick's, the red tail-lamp on the latter disclosing its presence. From the rear car a man silently alighted to the dusty road.
"Are you sure that's the machine?" a whispered voice asked.
"Yes, I'll stake my reputation on it. We've followed it too close to be mistaken, and they haven't had time to shake us."
"That's right. Well, Jake, do your best. Mr. Black expects us to make a record on this job."
"I know he does. That old skinflint of a Larabee isn't going to pay very heavy, though. It was all we could do to squeeze this car out of him."
"Well, now we've got it we can do as we please. Think you can pull off anything?"
"I don't know. I can sneak up there and seehow the land lays, anyhow. If we can't get the papers now we will have to some other time. But I think those lads will sleep well to-night—they had quite a day of it."
"I should say so! It was all I could do to drive this old car to keep up with 'em, and this isn't a slow machine, either. Well, if you're going, go ahead. I'll wait here."
"And be ready for a quick get-away in case—well, in case anything happens."
"Sure, I'll be on the job."
The figure in the road stole quietly toward the big touring car. As he came nearer he walked more and more slowly, and getting to within a short distance of theLast Word, he remained silent—listening.
"'All quiet along the Potomac,'" he quoted. "I guess I'll take a chance."
Again he stole forward.
In the darkness of the night a hand stole softly out toward one of the side doors of the big car. A pair of evil eyes looked in on the sleeping lads. Then the hand stole down in through the opening in the door, an opening as in a coach, covered with glass, but which glass had been dropped down to let in the air.
"I'll see what luck I have," murmured the voice of the man in the dark. Lower stole in the hand in the night. The fingers encountered the flap of a pocket. There was a start of surprise.
"By Jove!" whispered the voice. "I have it—first crack out of the box!"
The hand withdrew itself, with a bulky envelope, and, hesitating a moment to be sure that none of the sleepers had awakened, the man of darkness put in the same pocket another envelope of the same size as the one removed, and hurried back down the road to the waiting car.
"What luck?" his companion asked.
"Best in the world. I got it, and switched another bundle of papers in place of those I took. Now speed her, but—but run silently until you get some distance off."
"I get you all right. Hop in."
And the car sped away in the darkness, while Dick and his chums slept on.
"Oh! Ah! Um!"
"Who said get up?"
"Gee-whiz, but I'm tired!"
"So is the auto—rubber tired."
"Joke! Ha! Ha! Everybody snicker!"
The three chums turned over on their bunks in theLast Word, and looked one at the other.
"Well, if you fellows are going to lie abed all day, I'm not!" exclaimed Paul, he and his two companions having just indulged in the little morning "roundelay" I have used to introduce this chapter. He sprang from the bunk.
"'Up, up, Lucy!'" he quoted. "'The sun is up, and I am up too!' First reading lesson. Come on, fellows!" and he pulled the covers from Dick.
"It's too comfortable here," said that youth, gazing at the ceiling of the car where the electric light was yet glowing. Reaching out his hand Dick switched it off. "And yet I suppose we might as well get up," he went on. "Innis, you're nearest to it, turn on the stove, will you, and set the coffee to boiling? Then we'll have grub and see what the day will bring forth."
A storage battery in the car furnished current for the stove. The coffee had been put in the pot the night before, with cold water on it, and now all that remained was to shove it over on top of the electric stove, and set it boiling by the turn of a switch.
"The simple life—this," remarked Innis, as he complied with his host's request. Then, as the grateful aroma of coffee filled the car the lads dressed, and were soon washing at a nearby spring, which they had discovered the night before in a patch of woods, not far from the road.
Breakfast over, they were once more ready to proceed. Dick started the car from his seat, and sent it going at a moderate pace. They had no special objective point in view, and were content to take dinner wherever noon found them.
Through villages and towns they passed, attracting no little attention as they scurried along. Once an officious constable warned them against speeding.
"You went a leetle too fast comin' in," he said, throwing back the lapel of his coat to display his badge. "You fellers want t' be careful goin' out."
"All right," agreed Dick, with a laugh. "We'll be careful. Are the roads pretty good now?"
"Yep. Fine! That's why I warned you fellers. It's a great temptation t' speed. Only last week a feller was caught outside of town. We've got one of the finest speed traps in thecountry," he went on proudly. "I don't s'pose I ought t' tell you 'bout it, but I will, seein' as how you're strangers, an' that's a kind of car we don't often see around here.
"It's like this. I've got a man stationed near the fust mile post outside th' village proper. When he sees an auto comin' he marks down th' time it passes him, and then he telefoams to another of my men at the next mile post.
"Now if that there auto gits to the second mile post too quick, we know it's exceedin' th' speed limit, so we jest stop 'em an' collect th' fine. Squire Bradley is always ready t' hear the case. He'll come in from his hay field, or even stop plowin', t' hold court."
"I suppose it pays him," remarked Paul, while Dick was seeing about renewing the supply of gasoline, a stop having been made for that purpose.
"Oh, yes, it pays middlin' well," admitted the constable. "Th' Squire gits half th' fine, an' th' other half goes t' me an' my assistants."
"How do you stop the speeding autos when they get to the second mile post?" Innis wanted to know.
"Ha! That there's my patent. I've got a long rail fixed on a sort of hinge, like an old-fashioned well-sweep, you know. When an auto ain't exceedin' the legal rate of speed the long pole sticks straight up in the air alongside the road. But when my man at the first mile posttelefoams to Hank Selby at the second post that a car is comin' too fast, Hank jest yanks on a rod, down comes th' pole across th' road, an' th' car can't go on no further."
"I see," laughed Paul. "Hank yanks!"
"That's it! I see you fellers will have your leetle joke!" and the constable laughed with them.
"But supposing the car didn't stop?" asked Innis. "That pole across the road wouldn't be hard to break; would it?"
"No, I don't s'pose 'twould. But when they bust that pole they're bustin' th' law, too, an' that's a more serious offence. Squire Bradley jest doubles th' fine then."
"But how do you catch the autoists once they are past the second mile stone, supposing they have broken the pole?" Paul asked, much interested in this sort of a speed trap.
"That's easy," said the constable. "As soon as any one is rash enough t' bust our pole, Hank jest telefoams to his brother, who lives down the road a piece. His brother runs out and drops a lot of boards, with sharp nails in 'em, in th' dust. An auto ain't goin' fur after it runs over a few sharp pointed nails. No, sir-ee!"
"You 'nail' 'em; is that it?" asked Innis.
"That's what we do. We nail 'em! Ha! Ha! I never thought of that. It's another joke, by ginger!"
"It must be pretty expensive, keeping two telephones working," suggested Paul.
"Oh, the county pays for it," said the constable. "Anyhow, if they didn't, we could clear enough on fines to do it. Squire Bradley could raise the rate a leetle."
"I suppose so," agreed Innis, "Well, we'll be getting on, I guess," he added, as Dick came out of the garage after paying for the gasoline.
"An' don't try any speedin'," cautioned the representative of the law.
"We won't!" promised Dick.
Their trip up to noon was uneventful. They were in a section where good roads abounded, and a local automobile club had posted the route so they did not have to stop to ask their directions. They went to a local country hotel for dinner, as the place was well advertised as giving a good chicken and mushroom dinner, and this was a menu that the boys did not care to undertake on their small electric stove.
"Jove! That was good!" exclaimed Dick, as they came out of the hostelry.
"That's right," agreed Innis.
"I think I'll see if they have a couple of roast fowls that we could take along with us, and eat cold for supper," suggested the young millionaire, and he carried out his plan, a brace of well browned chickens being stowed away in the "kitchen" locker.
Late that afternoon they came to a place where two main roads forked. Either one would takethem to the place where they had decided to stay over night.
"This one's a little the shorter," explained a farmer, whom they asked about it, "and it's a good road. The only thing is that there's no crossroad leading from it for about eight miles, and you may git stuck in the middle, and have to come back."
"How so?" asked Dick.
"Why Bill Simpson is moving his house along this road. He's changing the location, and he may not be off the highway by the time you get there. I did hear, though, that he expected to have it off the road and on the new foundation by night."
"Well, we'll take a chance," said Dick. "If the house blocks the road maybe we can go around it."
"Maybe," assented the farmer, and the big car went on.
They had nearly reached the end of the fine, level road, and were congratulating themselves on soon getting to a fair-sized town where they intended to put up for the night, when Paul, looking ahead, exclaimed:
"There it is. Just our luck!"
"What?" inquired Dick from the back of the car, for Innis was steering.
"Bill Simpson's house—it's blocking the whole road, and it looks as if the men had given up work for the day, for they're getting a redlantern ready to display. We can't get past, Dick."
"Pshaw!" exclaimed the young millionaire. "We'll have to turn around and go back, I guess. Lose a lot of time, too. Drive up, and let's see what it looks like."
"Looks bad enough."
"Yes, the more so as you come closer."
"I don't see any way but to go back."
"That's right. Lucky we've got room to turn."
Thus Paul and Innis exchanged remarks and criticisms as they approached the house which, being moved from one site to another, now blocked the entire road.
"There's no chance of getting past, without running the risk of getting fast in the ditch," decided Dick, as he got out of the car and took a careful survey. "I guess we're stuck, boys."
"Funny they're quitting work so soon," observed Paul, looking at his watch. "Why, it's only four o'clock, and they're getting ready to leave, and hanging out a red light."
"We've got to do it," said one of the workmen. "Our windlass busted just now, and we can't do anything until it's fixed. No way of moving the shebang."
"You could if you had enough horses," said Dick. "Why can't you hitch two or three teams directly on the pulling rope, and yank the housea little further along—or even back—that would give us room to pass."
"It can't be done, young feller," said the man.
"Why not?"
"Because we ain't got the horses to do it. There'd be four teams needed, at the very most, to snake this house ahead or back, without a windlass to give us leverage. That's what we need—leverage."
"You've got ropes and pulleys; haven't you?" asked Dick.
"Sure we have."
"Can you attach them to the back of the house as well as on the front?"
"Sure we can. But what good is that going to do? There ain't enough horses that we can get now to snake the old building out of the way. We'll have to wait until morning, and then we can get a blacksmith to mend the windlass."
"Yes, and in the meantime I'm stuck here!" exclaimed Dick.
"Well, that is too bad, but you can turn around and go back to the other main road."
"That's eight miles or more, and I won't get to Fullerton until long after dark, even if I break the speed limits."
"Well, what can we do?" appealed the man, while his fellows prepared to go to their several homes.
"I'll tell you what we can do!" cried Dick, with sudden energy. "Put your tackle on theback here and I'll pull the house far enough this way so I can get past. It's just at the wrong point in the road for me to do that now. Ten feet either way will let me pass."
"I s'pose it will, but land sakes! you can't pull that house with anything you can rig up now. Where's your horses?"
"Horses? I don't need horses. I've got seventy-five of 'em right here with me."
The man's face was a picture of startled surprise. He looked from Dick to Paul and Innis, who were silently laughing, and then he inquired:
"Which one of you is his keeper?"
"What's that?" cried Dick. "Do you think I'm crazy?"
"I'm sure of it," said the man, confidently. "Move this house—seventy-five horses—got 'em with you! Where? In your pocket?"
"In there!" replied the young millionaire, pointing to the hood covering the engine of his auto. "I'll pull the house out of the way."
By this time a crowd of workmen had gathered. Dick stood in front of his big car, not at all put out by the curious glances cast at him.
"What's the matter here?" asked a man who seemed to be in charge.
"This young feller wants to get past," explained the man who had been about to hang up the red lantern. "He can't 'count of Simpson's house bein' in the road. Says he'll snake it fo'rd or back so's to make room."
"Back, not forward," said Dick. "I can't get past to hitch on to the front end or I'd haul it ahead for you. But, as it is, you won't lose more than ten feet, and I really have a right to half the road."
"Yes, I s'pose you have," agreed the foreman. "But I don't see how we're going to give it to you. I never thought that windlass would bust so soon. I knowed it was an old one, but I figured it would last until we got Bill's house moved. Howsomever——"
"I tell you I can move the house!" exclaimed Dick. "If you'll have your men attach the tackle to this end I'll pull it far enough back so I can get past."
"How?" demanded the foreman, dubiously.
"He says he's got seventy-five horses," put in the man with the red lantern. "I guess he's from some asylum," he added in a whisper loud enough for Dick to hear.
The latter smiled and answered:
"Perhaps I should have explained. My auto is about seventy-five horsepower. If you'll fix the ropes so I can hitch them to my rear axles I can pull the house far enough back so I can pass. I think I have a right to ask that."
"Yes, I guess you have," assented the foreman. "We'll let you try. We can pull her back again in the morning after the windlass is fixed. Get busy, boys!" he exclaimed. "Put the ropes on this end."
"But what about the windlass?" asked the lantern man, referring to the spindle on which the rope was wound.
"I won't need it," declared Dick. "I can get enough purchase with the pulleys. I'll be turning the car around, and by that time you can have the ropes in place."
Turning the big car in rather a restricted roadway was no easy matter, but Dick accomplished it, and soon he had it backed up toward the rear of the house, to which the men were attaching the ropes, rove through heavy blocks.
The house was elevated on piles of short crossed beams and jack screws, and was being slid along big timbers, common yellow soap and tallow making the ways slippery enough so that friction would, in a measure, be overcome.
Dick took a long rope, and put it around the rear of his car so as to strain it as little as possible. Then this rope was bent on to the one connecting with the system of pulleys.
"Are you all ready?" called the young man to the foreman, who had had his men rearrange the beams.
"All ready!" came the answer.
Dick's motor was running. With himself at the wheel, while three of the heaviest workmen had been added to Paul and Innis in the tonneau to give weight and trackage to the machine, Dick threw in the speed gears and released the clutch.
There was a whining, groaning noise. Theroped tautened, the pulley blocks shrilled out a protest and then the house was seen to quiver.
"She's moving!" cried the lantern-man.
"By Jupiter! So she is!" agreed the foreman, in surprise.
"Watch out!" warned Dick, "and let me know when I have her far enough!"
He turned on more power, threw in the second speed gear and then the house began moving more quickly, while the astonished men looked on.
In a short time, pulling directly on the main rope as he was, Dick had moved the house back far enough so that he could pass to one side, the building having been halted in a particularly narrow part of the road.
"That'll do!" shouted the foreman.
"All right," answered Dick, bringing his machine to a stop. "Now we'll try to get past."
It did not take long to disengage the ropes, turn the auto, and negotiate a way to one side of the building. Dick came to a halt on the now unblocked road, and called his thanks to the foreman for being allowed to do as he had done.
"Don't mention it!" was the answer. "You saved me ten dollars. I'd been fined that by the county authorities for blocking the road over night."
"Then we're even," laughed Dick. "Good night!"
"Huh! He ain't half as crazy as I thought he was," observed the man with the red lanternas he hung it on the rear of the house to warn night-drivers of the danger.
Dick and his chums sped on, and soon reached the town for which they were headed. They bought some more food, which, with the cold chickens, made a good supper. Then, as they did not like the looks of the only hotel in the place, they drove out a little way into the country and prepared to spend the night.
Dick was the first up the next morning.
"What's the route to-day?" asked Paul, turning over in the bunk.
"I'm going to try to make Buffalo."
"What! Buffalo?"
"Sure, we can do it by taking short cuts, I think. Let me have a look at that road map. Hand it over, Innis."
From his cot Innis reached into the pocket on the inner side of the door, and hauled out an envelope. This he handed to Dick.
"What's this? Where did this come from?" asked the latter, as he pulled out several blank sheets of legal paper. "This is a funny trick. Our road map has been transformed into nothing."
"Maybe I got hold of the wrong envelope," suggested Innis. "Here's another," and he pulled out a second.
"No, those are the legal papers," said Dick, after an examination. "See if the map isn't there."
It was not, and a search of the other places in the auto where it might have been put did not reveal it.
"This is queer," exclaimed Dick. "Our road map disappears, and we have some blank papers in its place."
"But the legal papers are safe!" exclaimed Paul.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that there's been some crooked work here. Some one tried to get those legal papers, and took the road map by mistake."
For a moment Dick stared at his chum uncomprehendingly. Then a light came over his face, and he said:
"By Jove, old man! I believe you're right."
"I'm sure of it," declared Paul.
Innis looked at the two in some bewilderment.
"I wish you'd kindly explain," he said. "I may be bright looking, but I guess I'm an awful dunce when it comes to making a stab at what you two are getting at. The road map is gone—I get as far as that—and the legal papers are safe. But how do you decide that a change has been made?"
"Easy," answered Paul, showing a bundle of the kind of paper known as "legal cap," with red lines down the side. "These were in the envelope containing the road map. The map and the legal documents were in the same pocket on the auto door. I remember, for I looked at the map to see how many miles we had made after we crossed that river."
"Maybe it dropped out on the road," suggested Innis. "Mind you!" he said, quickly, "I'm not saying this to be stubborn, but I want to makesure that we're not overlooking anything. For if it's true, what Paul says, it means that there's something wrong going on, and that we've got to be on our guard."
"I believe you," asserted Dick, "and I'm just as glad to have you raise all the objections you can. We want to be very sure of what we're about. Now it's pretty well settled that none of us have had the road map since it was put in the flap pocket last night. The envelope of legal papers looks just like the road map, and any one putting their hand in after dark, might get one in place of the other."
"And, lucky for you he got the wrong envelope," said Innis. "It's a good joke on whoever it is."
"Yes," agreed Dick, "and I'm beginning to have an idea of who it is."
"Who?" demanded his two chums.
"My Uncle Ezra, of course. Who else would have an object in preventing me from trying to save Mr. Wardell's fortune?"
"Ha! Ha!" laughed Innis. "I can just see his face when he looks in that envelope and sees nothing but a road map. That's a rich one; eh, Grit?" and he patted the bulldog, who wagged his stump of a tail energetically.
"Yes, it's a good joke," mused Dick; "but I don't believe Uncle Ezra will be the first one to appreciate it."
"What do you mean?" asked Paul.
"Why, that my uncle didn't personally take that envelope," went on Dick. "He must have hired some one to do it for him, just as he tried to get me off my yacht that time."
"And he got badly stung, too!" exclaimed Innis. "Just as he did this time."
"But we mustn't let that make us careless," went on Dick, "Uncle Ezra, if it was he, won't give up so easily. He'll have another try."
"But if he does get the papers so long before the time when you have to turn them over to the courts, Dick, can't you get other copies?" asked Paul.
The young millionaire shook his head.
"Mr. Wardell has left for South America by this time," he said. "It would be almost impossible to trace him now, in time to get him to execute new papers, in case these were lost or taken," and Dick looked at the valuable packet. "Of course I could cable him, if I knew on what ship he had sailed, but I don't.
"To find that out I'd have to go back home, and maybe even then his lawyer wouldn't know. You see Mr. Wardell was so ashamed of how easily he had been fooled that he wanted to get off by himself somewhere. Maybe he didn't leave his address. So I'd have quite a task tracing him.
"He depends on me to do this business for him, since I have undertaken it. He didn't do it himself for two reasons. He didn't have muchidea that he could ever get his fortune back, I guess; and, for another reason, he didn't want to lose the only chance he might have to make another in this South American matter. If that is successful, I understand, Mr. Wardell will come in for a big share of the profits.
"Now then, since he has trusted me, and since so much depends on these papers, we've got to take good care of them. I'll hide them in a new place. I guess under the cushions of one of the bunks will do. They can't be gotten away in the night without one of us knowing it," and Dick proceeded to carry his plan into execution.
"But how do you suppose the map was taken last night?" asked Paul.
"It would only be guess work," replied Dick. "Probably some one in an auto sneaked up near us after we were sound asleep, reached in and took the first envelope his fingers met with. That's the most plausible theory, though I don't say it's right."
"But why an auto?" asked Paul.
"That's about the only way Uncle Ezra's agents could keep after us. They must have our route down pretty fine, and now I'm sorry I didn't keep quieter about it when we were laying it out. I talked freely before Uncle Ezra, and, now I recall it, he was at our house more often since we began getting ready for this trip, than ever before. He must have overheard what dad and I planned to do."
"It looks so," admitted Paul Drew. "But why does he make all this fuss about it? Why doesn't he wait until the time comes, and then file in court a legal paper that would offset the one you have for Mr. Wardell, Dick?"
"Because this is a peculiar case," explained his friend, who had gone over it in detail with Mr. Wardell's lawyer. "No papers can be filed before a certain date, and only within certain times. All Uncle Ezra could do in the meanwhile would amount to nothing, unless he could get these papers away from me. And that wouldn't be so important if Mr. Wardell hadn't left the country and gone to a place where I can't get at him in time to have him execute a new power of attorney. So we've got to take good care of these papers, boys."
"And we've got to get a new road map," said Paul.
They stopped at the next town they came to and got a fine map, showing the best roads to take. Then, in furtherance of his original plan, Dick headed for Buffalo, which he hoped to make before nightfall.
"Couldn't you change your route, and fool your Uncle Ezra, Dick?" asked Innis, after dinner that day.
"I could in some ways, but the cities we have planned to pass through are on the best route to San Francisco. Of course I could switch off on side roads here and there, but my idea is thatif Uncle Ezra makes any other attempts they'll be made in or near the big cities. He knows every one where I'm going to touch."
"And this car is a regular landmark," complained Paul. "Everyone will remember it once they see it."
"Well, there's no use worrying until we have to," observed Dick. "We'll keep the papers as well hidden as we can, and a sharp watch out."
"It's a wonder Grit didn't give the alarm last night," said Innis.
"That's so," exclaimed Dick. "But the trouble with Grit is that he's too friendly with everyone except Uncle Ezra. He got that from the boys at school making such a fuss over him. He thinks everyone is his friend, and if a chap was only to speak gently to him Grit would wag his head off. That's probably what our night visitor did. Grit, you're no good!"
Grit barked happily, as though he had just been paid the greatest compliment in the world.
They drove the car hard that day, and had the satisfaction of arriving on the outskirts of Buffalo just as dusk was settling down. And then they had their first bit of bad luck.
From lack of oil, one of the bearings became heated and an inspection in a garage disclosed the fact that some new Babbitt, or anti-friction metal, would have to be put in.
"A two days' job," the repair man said.
"Punk!" exclaimed Dick. "Well, we'll haveto lay over, that's all. Come on, fellows, we'll go to a hotel and take a run out to Niagara Falls to-morrow."
So, after all, the accident had its advantages, for they quite enjoyed the trip to the big cataract. The auto was repaired on time, and in the interim Dick kept the valuable papers in his own pocket.
"If we only knew what sort of a man, or men, to be on the watch against, it would be easier," remarked Paul, when they were ready to proceed again.
"That's just it," admitted Dick. "We can't tell who Uncle Ezra will send, nor when they'll appear. But I think, after once being fooled, they'll go a bit slow. We won't worry, anyhow."
They were on the main road out of Buffalo, and were counting on making Cleveland their next big stop. Their schedule called for leisurely traveling, for they were in no special hurry, desiring to enjoy the trip as much as possible.
"Here's a good chance to make speed," remarked Paul, as he sighted the long, straight road ahead of them, after they had turned out of a bad stretch.
"Yes, let her out a bit," suggested Dick, who had turned the wheel over to Paul.
They sped along at a rapid pace, keeping a watchful eye out for motorcycle speed-officers, when, as they rounded a curve, which Paul tookat rather too great speed, they saw just ahead of them an auto drawn diagonally across the road.
"Look out!" cried Dick. "There isn't room to get past. What did he want to stop that way for?"
"Maybe he had a breakdown," suggested Innis.
"It looks so," admitted Paul, as he slowed up. As he did so a man walking with a perceptible limp came from the other side of the car, where he had evidently been tinkering with the mechanism, and held up his hand as a signal of distress.
"What's the matter?" asked Dick, as his big car came to a stop.
"Steering gear's broken," said the lame man, "and I can't push the car out of the road myself. It's a mean place to have an accident."
"Yes, especially as it makes the road impassable," said Paul. "Well, I guess we can get you out of the way all right. Is the break a bad one?"
"Yes, the steering knuckle has gone all to pieces. I tried to fix it, but I don't dare drive the car with that out of commission."
"I should say not," agreed Dick. "You'd be climbing a tree before you knew it," and he walked toward the disabled car, the lame man following closely, after a sharp glance at Dick's handsome machine.