CHAPTER XIINAN AND THE JERSEY BULLThere came a soft clatter of feet on the shaded greensward, and into view came the flying form of a girl, barefooted, sunbonneted, with a cheap calico gown showing a pair of graceful ankles, her touzled but abundant hair hardly half held by the pins. A second glance assured the boys that they knew that reddish coiffure, though now in disarray, and that supple form. It was undoubtedly the girl of the hay wagon, her finery laid away, and now chastely clad in the dangerously skimpy home attire, wherever that still mysterious home of hers might be.Seeing the boys, their car, and the remains of the noonday meal, she paused, hesitated, then burst forward, exclaiming:“Oh, oh! It’s you, is it?” She gave afrightened glance behind her, and at the same time the boys thought they detected a low but growing rumble indicative of a coming bellow. “I’m so glad—ah-h! Listen at him!”“What is it, Miss Nan?” queried Phil, at once alert.“It’s Dad’s Jersey bull,” she said. “He’s got loose somehow.”Just then the rumble rose into an unmistakable bellow, and a yellowish, bovine form hove into sight from the timber, halted and stared wildly about. First he saw the boys and the barefooted girl. Then, lashing his tail, he came on at a galloping run, uttering angry snorts at every step.Realizing before the others that here might be actual danger, Phil again rose to the emergency. He pulled out a flaming scarlet bandana handkerchief, which Paul had more than once made fun of, and which Phil seldom was caught using. Happening to have it with him now, Phil pointed at the Big Six standing near, bright colored and easily attractive to a mad bull.He darted toward the oncoming Jersey, crying:“All of you get in the car—quick! I’ll draw the bull! When he takes after me start her up! Then I’ll take a chance and jump in, if you’ll swing round near me. Hump yourselves!”Dave at once saw what Phil was up to. He wanted to save the car from the bull’s attack, for the animal was in a mood to attack anything bright enough, gay enough. Before Phil had finished, Dave sprang into the driver’s seat, while Paul and Billy, both assisting the girl, jumped into the tonneau. Dave released the clutch and off they went, the bull missing the rear end by hardly a yard.Daunted by the fierce snorts emitted by the car the bull halted, roaring. Then his eye caught the flare of a brilliant red something that Phil was waving to and fro under his inflamed nostrils. The sight of scarlet always went to his bullish head, and now made him more mad. With another louder roar his bullship turned furiously on this new tormentor.For several moments it was nip and tuck between the Jersey and his foe, who always was just behind that flaring expanse of scarlet. Only a brief spell of such hairbreadth maneuvering was sufficient to produce shortness of breath on Phil’s part, at least.Would that car never wheel in his direction? Fearing exhaustion, but flirting the bandana behind him, Phil made straight for the shady copse under which they had dined. Then he vanished so quickly that Mr. Bull, scenting mystery, halted and lashed his flanks with his tail. Dave saw the trick Phil was playing. His car veered round the other side of the copse, whirling up to within ten feet of where Phil stood panting, while the Jersey plunged round the far side. Paul flung open the door of the tonneau.“In with you, Phil! Lively now!” came the command.Phil made the first leap, then the second. His face was red with exertion, his legs wabbly under the strain they had been under, and at the third and final plunge they threatened togive way under him. With a half cry, half scream, Nan pushed herself through the door Paul was holding wide open, as the car veered close under Dave’s dexterous hand.“Ketch my hand, mister!” she cried and managed to clutch Phil’s fingers in a grip surprisingly strong for a girl. With his free hand Paul clutched Phil’s other hand and the two managed to half drag, half pull Phil inside, where he fell panting to the floor of the tonneau.Meantime Dave, far from idle, saw that Phil was making the connection. He also saw that Mr. Bull was dangerously near making another kind of connection with the near wheel’s guard with one of those sharp pointed horns.“Here we go!” he shouted, and the Big Six made a powerful spring forward, beyond the reach of this four-footed terror that bawled, glared and snorted in a now vain pursuit.Both Paul and Nan helped Phil up and, with a gasp or two he sank back on the seat, still flourishing the kerchief.“Well, what d’you think of that!” cried Paul,after assuring himself that Phil was all right. “Did you ever see a madder bull?”Meanwhile Dave, taking to the road again, soon placed distance and some timber growth between themselves in the Big Six and the bull.“Well, Miss Nan,” said Phil, who had recovered, “that was what you were scared at and I don’t wonder. Does he often do that way?”“Not often.” The girl was trying to hide her feet, somehow feeling that she was now where clothes assume greater importance than they do at home on the farm. “I was out after blueberries. Sam—that’s what we call him—had got out of the pasture, and when he saw me I think a bee or something had stung him. Anyway, he blamed it on me. He took after me full tilt and I had to run. I don’t know what I’d done but for you all.”“I’m sure we were glad to be where we could help,” encouraged Phil, “though I feel sure I don’t long for another such narrow escape. I must thank you, too, Miss Nan, for helping Paul drag me aboard, for I was about all in.”“Don’t you worry, Nan,” broke in Paul, who had been taking in the girl’s embarrassment. “I lived on a farm when I was smaller, and we didn’t bother much about how we dressed. I’m sure you look well, no matter what clothes you wear.”Nan blushed while Paul, feeling that he had done well, turned to Dave.“Where you going now, Mac?”“Just jogging along. But perhaps we better stop and find out what we’re going to do next. What you think, Phil?”“Oh, there’s my berry pail!” said the girl, pointing at an overturned tin bucket near the roadside. “If you will let me out I’ll be going on.”“Do you live near? But of course you do, or you wouldn’t have run across your bull. Could we take you home?” This from Phil.“I—I wouldn’t mind,” she rather hesitatingly said. “But I must get the pail.” And out she jumped, running to the overturned bucket, scooping up most of the berries that hadbeen spilled, then hurrying back, saying as she got in:“I wouldn’t bother you but there’s an old tumble-down house that folks say has a ghost or something near here. It used to be a tavern ’way back years ago. Somehow I always dread to go near it alone, and I always go round it when I’m out after blueberries, but this road goes right near it.”“Why, I don’t see any sign of a house round here,” remarked Dave. “I’ve stuck to this old road because I supposed it would lead somewhere.”“I know,” she returned. “The woods, so plentiful about here, are thicker’n ever where the ruins be. We’re about two miles from my house. It’s more open there; fields and so on. Sam must ’a’ strayed a good bit.”“We’ll take you home, Nan,” quoth Paul, and Billy nodded in assent. “But maybe you could tell us more about that house. When we get close, you know.”Here Phil gave both the other boys a warninglook as he inquired if they must turn round in order to go where her home lay. Nan nodded, pointing eastward as she replied:“Just follow the road the way I’m pointing now. I’ll tell you when we get nearest to that old place. It’s about two miles to our house from there.”Congratulating himself that they were so easily put in the way of finding what they had come so far to see, Phil passed the signal round for the others to keep still and let him do the talking.By this time Nan was much more at her ease with the boys. She told them of the extent of the woods and how she lived on a small farm at one edge of the great second-growth timber which was the predominating feature of this half swampy section. Moreover Phil, too, noted that here and there were larger hemlock trees, though none of very great size or ancient appearance.“Has anyone seen the ghost lately?” queried Phil. “Is it a real ghost, or merely the echo oftales that have been current around here for years?”“I’m sure I don’t know,” said Nan. “Once, not long ago, father and I were riding by after dark. I’m sure I saw a kind of brightness in the thick woods where we knew that old tavern was. It was brighter, yet somehow pale; made me think of ghosts right away.”“What did your father think of it?”“He never said, but when I spoke of it he drove along faster; but all he’d say was, ‘Shucks!’ I guess he don’t more’n half believe in them ghosts nohow.”They laughed at this, but they noted that the timber grew thicker as the car glided at slow speed along the little used road. Finally Nan began pointing in a certain direction as the road curved, and a thicker growth of cedar, pine and other evergreens began not far away.“It’s somewhere in there,” she said. “We’ll glimpse some of the roof and walls presently.”Sure enough, as the car hummed along, through the thick foliage they glimpsed weatherbeaten walls and parts of a roof covered by roughly rived boards, with gaps here and there, and all brown with age. It looked as if it might be eighty to a hundred yards back from the mere wagon trail the road had now become.“Shall we stop and take a look?” asked MacLester, gradually slowing up. “It’s bright, noonday sunshine and if there are any haants about, I reckon now’s the time of day when they take a rest.”But as the car slowed down Nan’s alarm began to increase. Phil watched her curiously. She did not look like a girl unduly afraid of ghosts, at midday especially. Yet it was plain enough to see that she was vaguely uneasy. After all, why stop now? They knew where the old tavern was and could begin their investigations later. Besides, they did not want outside witnesses.“Better drive on, Davy,” said Phil. “We must take Miss Nan home.”The girl’s relief was evident at once when Dave increased the speed. In another minuteor so the house was no longer visible. Paul, looking back, said half to himself:“It’s a cinch, Phil! By Ned! I’m going to see more of it before night, or bust a trace!”“Ugh!” shuddered Nan. “You can’t mean that you want to go back there, do you?”“Why not? We’re strangers round here and when we find something curious yet unknown, that scares off the folks that have lived by it for years, it’s only natural to get our curiosity up to a point that we’ve justgotto do something.”The car sped on through the woods, then past open fields and soon they came up to a rather battered farmhouse with sundry outbuildings near it and stacks of hay which had been cut evidently from the neighboring marshes that jutted in and out of the timbered lands. At the gate Nan sprang down, and at the same time out came the farmer, followed by the same boy they had before seen on the hay-load.Being invited inside, the boys entered the sitting-room, where two other men, garbed morelike town dwellers, were seated. The farmer greeted the boys warmly, recalling to them their kindly behavior along the side-hill road a day or so before. At the same time the two men got up to leave, giving the farmer a modest price for their dinners and remarking that they might be back again shortly.“Keep a bright lookout, Mr. Feeney. No knowing what you might run up against,” one said and they were gone. After this the boys had a sociable chat with Feeney, who pressed them to stay all night.“Shan’t cost you a cent, boys, for you were good to us when Jack and Jill might have balked and dumped us over that bluff.”“Well, it is possible we may come back. But in the meantime we want to have a look round at the timber.”“Int’rested in timber, are ye? How’d ye come to meet up with Nan?”The incidents connected with the Jersey bull were briefly related, Nan emphasizing how Phil had risked himself in her behalf and that theyhad kindly brought her home. This too pleased Feeney, who insisted more than before that they should stop with him while they were in the neighborhood.“This is, in the main, a thick settled country, lads,” said Feeney. “But right about here for a few miles there’s hardly anybody but us really livin’ here.”“It may be that we will take up your offer,” remarked Phil. “But you must not let us stop here unless we pay you a fair price. If those men come back you’ll hardly have room for more.”“Don’t worry about that. We’ll make room. Them men, I don’t know what they be up to. They won’t be back from Midlandville for a day or two, I guess.”With no definite promise to return the boys left, going along the road they had come with Nan, and on the way Phil busied himself in studying the pencilled map on the old envelope which had been given to Paul by Coster.There was a square in the center marked“Tavern,” doubtless the place the boys had seen that day through the thick timber growth. A straight line ran off in one direction to a point marked on the border of the map “south,” followed by the note: “From Tavern half a mile.” Close to this was a rude skeleton, with a black spot close by marked “treasure rock.” The skeleton of a tree had a huge split through the trunk, in which were the words “big split hemlock.”On the opposite edge of the map marked “north” was added “to railroad, half-mile.” East and west through the center, lengthwise of the envelope, ran an irregular line close by the tavern, which was indicated by the word “highway.”The whole thing was simple and seemingly plain, and all they apparently had to do was to take a due south course from this building shown as the ghost tavern, for half a mile. Right near where they had paused when Nan was showing glimpses of the old building, they turned the car into a grove of young second-growthspruces and halted. They were now hidden from view from the road, that was clear.“Can we leave this car here safely?” queried Billy dubiously.“I doubt if it is safe,” replied Dave, naturally cautious where the Big Six was concerned. “Billy, let’s you and me flip a nickel to see who stays with the car. I ain’t anxious to go that half mile; Iamanxious to know the car’ll be here when we come back.”After some discussion there was a toss up and Dave won. Billy looked vexed.“Aw, what’s the use of anyone staying?” he growled. “The car’s safe enough.”“What is the use of running risks?” rebuked Phil. “After what we went through back at Griffin we must take no more chances.”Worth resigned himself to the inevitable, but it was evident that he would much rather have gone with the others.As the three boys disappeared Billy blinked a while, finally stretching out in the tonneau, pulling over himself Paul’s big rug and—though hedid not mean to—he soon fell asleep. The woods were unusually quiet; no wind, much shade, with a soothing buzz and hum of insects that was in itself conducive to drowsiness.The other three, not deeming it necessary to actually visit the old tavern just then, took the compass with which Paul had provided himself and struck out due south.“How will we know when we have gone half a mile?” suddenly questioned Paul. “It’s too thick with underbrush to pace off so many yards. Say, how many yards in half a mile? Anyone know?”“Seventeen-sixty in a mile,” said Dave, drawing from his pocket one of those circular shielded tape measures. “Figure it out for yourselves.”“Eight hundred and eighty, you gander!” This from Paul, looking after Phil, who had gone on ahead with the compass. “Gimme hold of one end! How long is the thing, anyhow?”Stretched out, it seemed that the tape was tenyards long. With Paul linking a finger in the ring and Dave holding the circular shield, the boys began their march after Phil. Paul, breaking a twig when he came to a stopping place, would forge on again with Dave carefully following, keeping the line taut until Paul, stumbling, jerked the reel from Dave’s hand and thereby created some confusion. Both had been keeping count of each ten yards, but there was a difference of one length of the tape between.“Aw—why didn’t you hold to your end? I tell you my count is right!”“No, it ain’t,” was MacLester’s reply. “What I know, Iknow!”This difficulty finally adjusted, the pair resumed their march in Phil’s wake, who had taken particular pains to leave a trail of broken branches so that the rest could follow. Going thus, they diligently but slowly kept on until Dave suddenly looked up, shouting:“Eighty-eight lengths! We’re there—eighthundred and eighty yards. Hullo! What’s become of Phil?”No Phil was in sight.
CHAPTER XII
NAN AND THE JERSEY BULL
There came a soft clatter of feet on the shaded greensward, and into view came the flying form of a girl, barefooted, sunbonneted, with a cheap calico gown showing a pair of graceful ankles, her touzled but abundant hair hardly half held by the pins. A second glance assured the boys that they knew that reddish coiffure, though now in disarray, and that supple form. It was undoubtedly the girl of the hay wagon, her finery laid away, and now chastely clad in the dangerously skimpy home attire, wherever that still mysterious home of hers might be.
Seeing the boys, their car, and the remains of the noonday meal, she paused, hesitated, then burst forward, exclaiming:
“Oh, oh! It’s you, is it?” She gave afrightened glance behind her, and at the same time the boys thought they detected a low but growing rumble indicative of a coming bellow. “I’m so glad—ah-h! Listen at him!”
“What is it, Miss Nan?” queried Phil, at once alert.
“It’s Dad’s Jersey bull,” she said. “He’s got loose somehow.”
Just then the rumble rose into an unmistakable bellow, and a yellowish, bovine form hove into sight from the timber, halted and stared wildly about. First he saw the boys and the barefooted girl. Then, lashing his tail, he came on at a galloping run, uttering angry snorts at every step.
Realizing before the others that here might be actual danger, Phil again rose to the emergency. He pulled out a flaming scarlet bandana handkerchief, which Paul had more than once made fun of, and which Phil seldom was caught using. Happening to have it with him now, Phil pointed at the Big Six standing near, bright colored and easily attractive to a mad bull.
He darted toward the oncoming Jersey, crying:
“All of you get in the car—quick! I’ll draw the bull! When he takes after me start her up! Then I’ll take a chance and jump in, if you’ll swing round near me. Hump yourselves!”
Dave at once saw what Phil was up to. He wanted to save the car from the bull’s attack, for the animal was in a mood to attack anything bright enough, gay enough. Before Phil had finished, Dave sprang into the driver’s seat, while Paul and Billy, both assisting the girl, jumped into the tonneau. Dave released the clutch and off they went, the bull missing the rear end by hardly a yard.
Daunted by the fierce snorts emitted by the car the bull halted, roaring. Then his eye caught the flare of a brilliant red something that Phil was waving to and fro under his inflamed nostrils. The sight of scarlet always went to his bullish head, and now made him more mad. With another louder roar his bullship turned furiously on this new tormentor.
For several moments it was nip and tuck between the Jersey and his foe, who always was just behind that flaring expanse of scarlet. Only a brief spell of such hairbreadth maneuvering was sufficient to produce shortness of breath on Phil’s part, at least.
Would that car never wheel in his direction? Fearing exhaustion, but flirting the bandana behind him, Phil made straight for the shady copse under which they had dined. Then he vanished so quickly that Mr. Bull, scenting mystery, halted and lashed his flanks with his tail. Dave saw the trick Phil was playing. His car veered round the other side of the copse, whirling up to within ten feet of where Phil stood panting, while the Jersey plunged round the far side. Paul flung open the door of the tonneau.
“In with you, Phil! Lively now!” came the command.
Phil made the first leap, then the second. His face was red with exertion, his legs wabbly under the strain they had been under, and at the third and final plunge they threatened togive way under him. With a half cry, half scream, Nan pushed herself through the door Paul was holding wide open, as the car veered close under Dave’s dexterous hand.
“Ketch my hand, mister!” she cried and managed to clutch Phil’s fingers in a grip surprisingly strong for a girl. With his free hand Paul clutched Phil’s other hand and the two managed to half drag, half pull Phil inside, where he fell panting to the floor of the tonneau.
Meantime Dave, far from idle, saw that Phil was making the connection. He also saw that Mr. Bull was dangerously near making another kind of connection with the near wheel’s guard with one of those sharp pointed horns.
“Here we go!” he shouted, and the Big Six made a powerful spring forward, beyond the reach of this four-footed terror that bawled, glared and snorted in a now vain pursuit.
Both Paul and Nan helped Phil up and, with a gasp or two he sank back on the seat, still flourishing the kerchief.
“Well, what d’you think of that!” cried Paul,after assuring himself that Phil was all right. “Did you ever see a madder bull?”
Meanwhile Dave, taking to the road again, soon placed distance and some timber growth between themselves in the Big Six and the bull.
“Well, Miss Nan,” said Phil, who had recovered, “that was what you were scared at and I don’t wonder. Does he often do that way?”
“Not often.” The girl was trying to hide her feet, somehow feeling that she was now where clothes assume greater importance than they do at home on the farm. “I was out after blueberries. Sam—that’s what we call him—had got out of the pasture, and when he saw me I think a bee or something had stung him. Anyway, he blamed it on me. He took after me full tilt and I had to run. I don’t know what I’d done but for you all.”
“I’m sure we were glad to be where we could help,” encouraged Phil, “though I feel sure I don’t long for another such narrow escape. I must thank you, too, Miss Nan, for helping Paul drag me aboard, for I was about all in.”
“Don’t you worry, Nan,” broke in Paul, who had been taking in the girl’s embarrassment. “I lived on a farm when I was smaller, and we didn’t bother much about how we dressed. I’m sure you look well, no matter what clothes you wear.”
Nan blushed while Paul, feeling that he had done well, turned to Dave.
“Where you going now, Mac?”
“Just jogging along. But perhaps we better stop and find out what we’re going to do next. What you think, Phil?”
“Oh, there’s my berry pail!” said the girl, pointing at an overturned tin bucket near the roadside. “If you will let me out I’ll be going on.”
“Do you live near? But of course you do, or you wouldn’t have run across your bull. Could we take you home?” This from Phil.
“I—I wouldn’t mind,” she rather hesitatingly said. “But I must get the pail.” And out she jumped, running to the overturned bucket, scooping up most of the berries that hadbeen spilled, then hurrying back, saying as she got in:
“I wouldn’t bother you but there’s an old tumble-down house that folks say has a ghost or something near here. It used to be a tavern ’way back years ago. Somehow I always dread to go near it alone, and I always go round it when I’m out after blueberries, but this road goes right near it.”
“Why, I don’t see any sign of a house round here,” remarked Dave. “I’ve stuck to this old road because I supposed it would lead somewhere.”
“I know,” she returned. “The woods, so plentiful about here, are thicker’n ever where the ruins be. We’re about two miles from my house. It’s more open there; fields and so on. Sam must ’a’ strayed a good bit.”
“We’ll take you home, Nan,” quoth Paul, and Billy nodded in assent. “But maybe you could tell us more about that house. When we get close, you know.”
Here Phil gave both the other boys a warninglook as he inquired if they must turn round in order to go where her home lay. Nan nodded, pointing eastward as she replied:
“Just follow the road the way I’m pointing now. I’ll tell you when we get nearest to that old place. It’s about two miles to our house from there.”
Congratulating himself that they were so easily put in the way of finding what they had come so far to see, Phil passed the signal round for the others to keep still and let him do the talking.
By this time Nan was much more at her ease with the boys. She told them of the extent of the woods and how she lived on a small farm at one edge of the great second-growth timber which was the predominating feature of this half swampy section. Moreover Phil, too, noted that here and there were larger hemlock trees, though none of very great size or ancient appearance.
“Has anyone seen the ghost lately?” queried Phil. “Is it a real ghost, or merely the echo oftales that have been current around here for years?”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” said Nan. “Once, not long ago, father and I were riding by after dark. I’m sure I saw a kind of brightness in the thick woods where we knew that old tavern was. It was brighter, yet somehow pale; made me think of ghosts right away.”
“What did your father think of it?”
“He never said, but when I spoke of it he drove along faster; but all he’d say was, ‘Shucks!’ I guess he don’t more’n half believe in them ghosts nohow.”
They laughed at this, but they noted that the timber grew thicker as the car glided at slow speed along the little used road. Finally Nan began pointing in a certain direction as the road curved, and a thicker growth of cedar, pine and other evergreens began not far away.
“It’s somewhere in there,” she said. “We’ll glimpse some of the roof and walls presently.”
Sure enough, as the car hummed along, through the thick foliage they glimpsed weatherbeaten walls and parts of a roof covered by roughly rived boards, with gaps here and there, and all brown with age. It looked as if it might be eighty to a hundred yards back from the mere wagon trail the road had now become.
“Shall we stop and take a look?” asked MacLester, gradually slowing up. “It’s bright, noonday sunshine and if there are any haants about, I reckon now’s the time of day when they take a rest.”
But as the car slowed down Nan’s alarm began to increase. Phil watched her curiously. She did not look like a girl unduly afraid of ghosts, at midday especially. Yet it was plain enough to see that she was vaguely uneasy. After all, why stop now? They knew where the old tavern was and could begin their investigations later. Besides, they did not want outside witnesses.
“Better drive on, Davy,” said Phil. “We must take Miss Nan home.”
The girl’s relief was evident at once when Dave increased the speed. In another minuteor so the house was no longer visible. Paul, looking back, said half to himself:
“It’s a cinch, Phil! By Ned! I’m going to see more of it before night, or bust a trace!”
“Ugh!” shuddered Nan. “You can’t mean that you want to go back there, do you?”
“Why not? We’re strangers round here and when we find something curious yet unknown, that scares off the folks that have lived by it for years, it’s only natural to get our curiosity up to a point that we’ve justgotto do something.”
The car sped on through the woods, then past open fields and soon they came up to a rather battered farmhouse with sundry outbuildings near it and stacks of hay which had been cut evidently from the neighboring marshes that jutted in and out of the timbered lands. At the gate Nan sprang down, and at the same time out came the farmer, followed by the same boy they had before seen on the hay-load.
Being invited inside, the boys entered the sitting-room, where two other men, garbed morelike town dwellers, were seated. The farmer greeted the boys warmly, recalling to them their kindly behavior along the side-hill road a day or so before. At the same time the two men got up to leave, giving the farmer a modest price for their dinners and remarking that they might be back again shortly.
“Keep a bright lookout, Mr. Feeney. No knowing what you might run up against,” one said and they were gone. After this the boys had a sociable chat with Feeney, who pressed them to stay all night.
“Shan’t cost you a cent, boys, for you were good to us when Jack and Jill might have balked and dumped us over that bluff.”
“Well, it is possible we may come back. But in the meantime we want to have a look round at the timber.”
“Int’rested in timber, are ye? How’d ye come to meet up with Nan?”
The incidents connected with the Jersey bull were briefly related, Nan emphasizing how Phil had risked himself in her behalf and that theyhad kindly brought her home. This too pleased Feeney, who insisted more than before that they should stop with him while they were in the neighborhood.
“This is, in the main, a thick settled country, lads,” said Feeney. “But right about here for a few miles there’s hardly anybody but us really livin’ here.”
“It may be that we will take up your offer,” remarked Phil. “But you must not let us stop here unless we pay you a fair price. If those men come back you’ll hardly have room for more.”
“Don’t worry about that. We’ll make room. Them men, I don’t know what they be up to. They won’t be back from Midlandville for a day or two, I guess.”
With no definite promise to return the boys left, going along the road they had come with Nan, and on the way Phil busied himself in studying the pencilled map on the old envelope which had been given to Paul by Coster.
There was a square in the center marked“Tavern,” doubtless the place the boys had seen that day through the thick timber growth. A straight line ran off in one direction to a point marked on the border of the map “south,” followed by the note: “From Tavern half a mile.” Close to this was a rude skeleton, with a black spot close by marked “treasure rock.” The skeleton of a tree had a huge split through the trunk, in which were the words “big split hemlock.”
On the opposite edge of the map marked “north” was added “to railroad, half-mile.” East and west through the center, lengthwise of the envelope, ran an irregular line close by the tavern, which was indicated by the word “highway.”
The whole thing was simple and seemingly plain, and all they apparently had to do was to take a due south course from this building shown as the ghost tavern, for half a mile. Right near where they had paused when Nan was showing glimpses of the old building, they turned the car into a grove of young second-growthspruces and halted. They were now hidden from view from the road, that was clear.
“Can we leave this car here safely?” queried Billy dubiously.
“I doubt if it is safe,” replied Dave, naturally cautious where the Big Six was concerned. “Billy, let’s you and me flip a nickel to see who stays with the car. I ain’t anxious to go that half mile; Iamanxious to know the car’ll be here when we come back.”
After some discussion there was a toss up and Dave won. Billy looked vexed.
“Aw, what’s the use of anyone staying?” he growled. “The car’s safe enough.”
“What is the use of running risks?” rebuked Phil. “After what we went through back at Griffin we must take no more chances.”
Worth resigned himself to the inevitable, but it was evident that he would much rather have gone with the others.
As the three boys disappeared Billy blinked a while, finally stretching out in the tonneau, pulling over himself Paul’s big rug and—though hedid not mean to—he soon fell asleep. The woods were unusually quiet; no wind, much shade, with a soothing buzz and hum of insects that was in itself conducive to drowsiness.
The other three, not deeming it necessary to actually visit the old tavern just then, took the compass with which Paul had provided himself and struck out due south.
“How will we know when we have gone half a mile?” suddenly questioned Paul. “It’s too thick with underbrush to pace off so many yards. Say, how many yards in half a mile? Anyone know?”
“Seventeen-sixty in a mile,” said Dave, drawing from his pocket one of those circular shielded tape measures. “Figure it out for yourselves.”
“Eight hundred and eighty, you gander!” This from Paul, looking after Phil, who had gone on ahead with the compass. “Gimme hold of one end! How long is the thing, anyhow?”
Stretched out, it seemed that the tape was tenyards long. With Paul linking a finger in the ring and Dave holding the circular shield, the boys began their march after Phil. Paul, breaking a twig when he came to a stopping place, would forge on again with Dave carefully following, keeping the line taut until Paul, stumbling, jerked the reel from Dave’s hand and thereby created some confusion. Both had been keeping count of each ten yards, but there was a difference of one length of the tape between.
“Aw—why didn’t you hold to your end? I tell you my count is right!”
“No, it ain’t,” was MacLester’s reply. “What I know, Iknow!”
This difficulty finally adjusted, the pair resumed their march in Phil’s wake, who had taken particular pains to leave a trail of broken branches so that the rest could follow. Going thus, they diligently but slowly kept on until Dave suddenly looked up, shouting:
“Eighty-eight lengths! We’re there—eighthundred and eighty yards. Hullo! What’s become of Phil?”
No Phil was in sight.
CHAPTER XIIITHE KIDNAPERSPhil, it appeared, was the only one to think out two reasons why there was little necessity for being exact about measurements. Coster had drawn his rough diagram on the envelope probably from memory. It was, according to Coster, somewhere near a half mile from the tavern to the split hemlock. The main thing was to keep the proper direction, if anything like strict obedience was due to the pencilled chart. Therefore he took upon himself the sole task of going south, and when he had convinced himself that he was somewhere in the neighborhood of that half mile, he began to look about for the big split hemlock.None could he then see. There were other hemlocks, but all of a younger, second-growth variety. So he ranged to and fro, but no suchtree could he find. The undergrowth was not thick, yet it prevented clear vision of anything more than a few yards away. He was about to give up, feeling a first sense of coming despair, when he caught sight of a high bulge upward through the tops of some clumps of bushes. He sprang on a nearby log and his pulse thrilled a bit when he saw that what was in view was the rounded top of a big rock.Impetuously he leaped on through the bushes, but when nearly there he stumbled and fell over a tree root. Following the fallen trunk he noted an enormous split, extending from where the trunk divided halfway down towards the upturned root.“By hokey! Can this be it?”Plunging through the thick bushes, he reached the place where the branches spread out over the ground, first noticing that the withered leaves, like needles, still sharp and pointed, were undoubtedly of the hemlock variety. Moreover, the big rock which had first caught his attention seemed to be about the proper distance fromwhere the roots showed the hemlock must have stood before the storm, or whatever caused it to fall, had done its work.About this time he heard calls from his partners, for Phil was yet hidden from them by intervening bushes. Moreover, he was some distance away, which confirmed one of two facts. Either the two lads had measured or counted wrong in their advance with the tapeline or, as Phil concluded, the distance was only approximate. A prisoner, trusting largely to memory, Coster could not be exact, unless by sheer accident.“Hullo! Here I am, boys! Come this way!”They came, Phil assisting their progress by calling out now and then. When they arrived, no hemlock being in sight, the boys stared first at Phil seated on the trunk of an upturned tree, then at the boulder close by.“How’d you get way out here?” demanded Paul.“Followed my nose! How would youthink?” Phil looked amused. “What’s that you got—a tapeline?”“Yep,” replied Dave. “Wanted to be exact as possible.”Phil laughed. Said he:“Do you reckon Coster was very exact when he drew that map—from memory?”“Oh—stuff! I don’t see any big split hemlock.”“You’re looking at it, stupid! I’m sitting on the butt of it, and right there is the rock, I think.”At first inclined to scoff, both lads now saw Phil’s side of it at once. Dave looked about again.“It’s a thick place here,” he ventured. “You were lucky to stumble on it this way, Phil.”“Didn’t stumble on it. I was particular about keeping my compass right. When I got where I thought I might have gone half a mile or so I began to look round a bit. I couldn’t see any big split hemlock, but I did manage to find this big rock. After that it was easy to findthe tree, even though it had been blown down.”After some further talk it was agreed that the first step would be to return to the car. Then they would decide upon what to do next.“I think we should visit that old tavern while we are here,” remarked Paul. “No knowing what we might find there. If there’s an old shovel or anything, we might come back and dig under that rock for a starter.”Phil and Dave also had their theories as to what should next be in order, but nothing conclusive was determined on. Meanwhile the three, threading the trail Phil had first followed and which Dave and Paul had made more distinct, they finally reached the clump of shade trees where they had left Billy on guard over the Big Six.But in the place of the glistening car with Billy Worth still on guard there was only a vacant place. No glimpse of either was anywhere to be seen.“Look here—on the ground,” exclaimed Paul, pointing here and there. “Somebodyelse has been here! Looks as if there had been a scuffle!”Where Paul was pointing there were signs of many footsteps, inextricably intermingled, with sundry deep gouges in the loose soil as if those who made them were in a struggle of some kind.“Look here, boys!” Dave was holding up a soiled handkerchief that he had found underneath a jumble of twigs and leaves evidently kicked together by those engaged in the scuffling, signs of which were more than plentiful. “By jimminy! That’s Billy’s handkerchief or I’m blind!”Sure enough, it was Billy’s, for in one corner were his initials which the boys had often seen on many of his belongings.Phil meanwhile had been taking a comprehensive survey of the whole scene. Presently he noted that while the struggles had gone on mostly in one spot, there were, at one side, clear markings of the car wheels as it was steered in a semicircle towards the very road along whichthe boys had traveled not more than an hour or so before.“Boys,” said he, “I hate to acknowledge it, but Billy must have been surprised by somebody. Probably outnumbered, too. These tracks show that Billy must have put up a good fight; but they were too many for him, whoever they were. Come on! We’ve no time to lose!” And straightway he began following the tracks through the straggly undergrowth until he reached the road.The others, catching the significance of Phil’s suspicions, plodded after, taking in as they went where the car, avoiding the more open spaces, had plunged through the thicker growth. Evidently those on board were bent on gaining the road by the nearest route, and at a point somewhat beyond where the car had turned off when the boys first reached that place.To the right was the old tavern, and at one spot the car had stopped where there were signs that a path had been crushed out in traveling through the brush towards the tavern.“Look here,” said Phil. “What does this mean?”The signs were plain that something or someone had been half dragged or carried along towards the old Ghost Tavern.“What had we better do?” exclaimed Dave. “Follow the car or take a look into that old ramshackle building?”“Gee! Why, Billy may have been carried there—hark!”At this from Paul all listened intently. There were certainly queer sounds to be heard somewhere ahead. Phil dashed boldly forward, calling:“Dave, you go back and see which way that car went! Then come back to Paul and me. Get a hustle on now!”Paul, dashing on after Phil, heard Dave grunt a dubious acquiescence as he turned back towards the road. They could trust Dave. He was often doubtful, even dubious, but he had sharp eyes and good judgment in the main.A minute or so later Phil, followed closely byJones, reached a more open space, though overgrown with straggly weeds and grass.“This must be the yard of the old inn,” remarked Phil. “Look, Paul!”He was pointing where the woods trail on entering the yard showed distinct signs where some hard objects had been half dragged. It was as if boot-heels had dented the soft places in a steady imprint.Just then came sounds from inside the house that might have been grunts or groans of pain. Without a halt Phil dashed over the porch, where heavier weights had partially crushed the rotten flooring. Avoiding these places, the two boys—Phil still in the lead—entered a short hallway, where was a doorless opening that led into what once had doubtless been the tavern office.On the floor of the porch and hallway were fresh tracks, with the trail of shoe or boot-heels dragging along. The office room looked dark inside, though a couple of sashless windows let in some light which was, however, little morethan shadowy gloom from the overhanging branches of the trees without. While they stared, listening, something stirred and scraped the dusty floor in a far corner, where a short counter toppled outward as if in danger of falling over.“What’s that?” echoed Phil. “Is it anybody?”Muffled, jerky noises issued from the recess under the half tumbling counter. With an exclamation Paul darted forward, reached under the counter and felt an object that at once electrified the boy.“Let’s pull it out, Phil!” he urged. “It may be—”Aided by Phil, Paul dragged forth a bound form, tied hand and foot with improvised shreds of cloth, the mouth tightly gagged with a couple of kerchiefs—in a word, Billy!“Why, Billy, you poor boy!” exclaimed Phil, whipping out his knife and in another minute releasing the cords that bound him and cutting loose the cruel gag that had been so tightlyforced into the lad’s mouth that the corners of his lips were bleeding.They bore him out of the porch to a grassy place, where with a sudden wriggle Billy sat upright, twisted his neck about, gulped a time or two, then stared at his comrades as if astonished.“D-didn’t you hear me holler?” he asked. “But of course you didn’t. Before I was half awake they had me down out of that car trying to gag and bind me.”“Who, Billy? Just what do you mean?”“I mean those two chaps that caught me fast asleep under Paul’s rug on the back seat, taking forty winks when I ought to have kept wide awake.”“Two men?” Instantly Phil’s thoughts ran back to the two strangers they had seen at Feeney’s who seemed so anxious to get away as soon as the boys arrived with Nan.“Would you know them if you saw them? Were they the two strangers we saw at Feeney’s? Think hard, Billy!”“Confound ’em—they had on handkerchiefs that covered their faces, so I could hardly tell. I didn’t get more’n a glimpse or two along at first. Then they pulled something over my head after gagging me so tight it hurt. My mouth is sore now.” Billy dubiously fingered the corners of his mouth. “One thing I’m sure of. One of the men we saw at Feeney’s had on a visored gray cap and gray clothes. The other wore something darker. I feel sure the gray-clad man was one of ’em. Of course I never got half a glimpse of their faces.”“Recognize these handkerchiefs?” asked Phil, showing the ones used in binding and gagging. “Two of ’em are bandanas: the others of a soiled, nondescript variety that might have belonged to tramps of any sort.”By this time Billy was more himself, being pretty well recovered from his recent manhandling. He was the first to think again of the Big Six.“I’m all right now, fellows. Let’s see what went with the car. They stopped with me somedistance from this old rookery. Gosh! If it wasn’t for the car, I’d like to take a look around!”But, like Worth, whom they were most glad to have with them again, all hated to feel that the pride of their hearts, their new car, was gone. But where?At this juncture they were joined by MacLester, who after greeting Billy very effusively for one who had seen him just two hours before, turned to the others, interrupting Worth’s brief recital of what had happened to him.“Boys,” Dave began, “I followed those tracks about thirty yards or so; then they turned towards the railroad; right through the woods, too. Rough going for a car like ours. I bet she’s all scratched up by now, if nothing worse happens to her.”“Did you go any further, Dave?” This from Paul eagerly.“Why, yes! Presently the car struck another old trail that led towards the road, and I picked up this.”Mac held out the visored cap Worth had mentioned to Paul and Phil. At sight of it Billy grabbed it and turned it over in his hands as he said:“That’s the one the chap in gray wore, I’m sure.”“Must ’a’ got knocked off going through the woods,” said Dave. “I think they were in a hurry or they’d never have plunged along the way they did over such rough places.”“Well, if we’re through here, let’s get on.” Thus spoke Phil, ever mindful of the lost car. “I took a look into a back room of the old tavern, and I saw a queer outfit—looked as if they’d been camping and working there. Saw tools, and what looked like a sort of forge or fireplace. But we’ve no time now for anything but to look after the car. Come on!”Rapidly now the four lads pushed through the woods along the old road, then into the woods again along the open trail that led recklessly over rocks, through thick undergrowth and over fallen saplings, with here and there uneven riftsand rises, showing that nothing but superior motor power could have propelled the machine thus far.“Bust their dirty hides!” said Paul wrathfully. “Those two ain’t fit to drive cattle to water! Hello! What’s that?”Jones, being in the lead, was pointing at a tumbled mass of their own outfit that had been dumped overboard during a rapid downward course, the end of which was not in sight owing to the thicker screen of bushes beyond, which the partially denuded car somehow had crashed through.Paul and Billy paused to gather up the suitcases, bags of bedding, and the wicker hamper containing their present supply of food, while Dave and Phil hurried ahead, their route roughly descending now until, reaching the thick screen where the car had crashed through, they came unexpectedly to a low embankment. At the bottom was the dry bed of a small brooklet, with a further shore that sloped gradually up into second-growth timber again.But this was not all. Right below the two boys was the Big Six; not upright, but lying on its side, two wheels in the air, yet apparently uninjured. Uttering a shout of joy at sight of the beloved car, Dave jumped down the declivity, the irregular projections of which had doubtless caused the Six to turn over under the reckless driving it had been subjected to ever since it had been seized.
CHAPTER XIII
THE KIDNAPERS
Phil, it appeared, was the only one to think out two reasons why there was little necessity for being exact about measurements. Coster had drawn his rough diagram on the envelope probably from memory. It was, according to Coster, somewhere near a half mile from the tavern to the split hemlock. The main thing was to keep the proper direction, if anything like strict obedience was due to the pencilled chart. Therefore he took upon himself the sole task of going south, and when he had convinced himself that he was somewhere in the neighborhood of that half mile, he began to look about for the big split hemlock.
None could he then see. There were other hemlocks, but all of a younger, second-growth variety. So he ranged to and fro, but no suchtree could he find. The undergrowth was not thick, yet it prevented clear vision of anything more than a few yards away. He was about to give up, feeling a first sense of coming despair, when he caught sight of a high bulge upward through the tops of some clumps of bushes. He sprang on a nearby log and his pulse thrilled a bit when he saw that what was in view was the rounded top of a big rock.
Impetuously he leaped on through the bushes, but when nearly there he stumbled and fell over a tree root. Following the fallen trunk he noted an enormous split, extending from where the trunk divided halfway down towards the upturned root.
“By hokey! Can this be it?”
Plunging through the thick bushes, he reached the place where the branches spread out over the ground, first noticing that the withered leaves, like needles, still sharp and pointed, were undoubtedly of the hemlock variety. Moreover, the big rock which had first caught his attention seemed to be about the proper distance fromwhere the roots showed the hemlock must have stood before the storm, or whatever caused it to fall, had done its work.
About this time he heard calls from his partners, for Phil was yet hidden from them by intervening bushes. Moreover, he was some distance away, which confirmed one of two facts. Either the two lads had measured or counted wrong in their advance with the tapeline or, as Phil concluded, the distance was only approximate. A prisoner, trusting largely to memory, Coster could not be exact, unless by sheer accident.
“Hullo! Here I am, boys! Come this way!”
They came, Phil assisting their progress by calling out now and then. When they arrived, no hemlock being in sight, the boys stared first at Phil seated on the trunk of an upturned tree, then at the boulder close by.
“How’d you get way out here?” demanded Paul.
“Followed my nose! How would youthink?” Phil looked amused. “What’s that you got—a tapeline?”
“Yep,” replied Dave. “Wanted to be exact as possible.”
Phil laughed. Said he:
“Do you reckon Coster was very exact when he drew that map—from memory?”
“Oh—stuff! I don’t see any big split hemlock.”
“You’re looking at it, stupid! I’m sitting on the butt of it, and right there is the rock, I think.”
At first inclined to scoff, both lads now saw Phil’s side of it at once. Dave looked about again.
“It’s a thick place here,” he ventured. “You were lucky to stumble on it this way, Phil.”
“Didn’t stumble on it. I was particular about keeping my compass right. When I got where I thought I might have gone half a mile or so I began to look round a bit. I couldn’t see any big split hemlock, but I did manage to find this big rock. After that it was easy to findthe tree, even though it had been blown down.”
After some further talk it was agreed that the first step would be to return to the car. Then they would decide upon what to do next.
“I think we should visit that old tavern while we are here,” remarked Paul. “No knowing what we might find there. If there’s an old shovel or anything, we might come back and dig under that rock for a starter.”
Phil and Dave also had their theories as to what should next be in order, but nothing conclusive was determined on. Meanwhile the three, threading the trail Phil had first followed and which Dave and Paul had made more distinct, they finally reached the clump of shade trees where they had left Billy on guard over the Big Six.
But in the place of the glistening car with Billy Worth still on guard there was only a vacant place. No glimpse of either was anywhere to be seen.
“Look here—on the ground,” exclaimed Paul, pointing here and there. “Somebodyelse has been here! Looks as if there had been a scuffle!”
Where Paul was pointing there were signs of many footsteps, inextricably intermingled, with sundry deep gouges in the loose soil as if those who made them were in a struggle of some kind.
“Look here, boys!” Dave was holding up a soiled handkerchief that he had found underneath a jumble of twigs and leaves evidently kicked together by those engaged in the scuffling, signs of which were more than plentiful. “By jimminy! That’s Billy’s handkerchief or I’m blind!”
Sure enough, it was Billy’s, for in one corner were his initials which the boys had often seen on many of his belongings.
Phil meanwhile had been taking a comprehensive survey of the whole scene. Presently he noted that while the struggles had gone on mostly in one spot, there were, at one side, clear markings of the car wheels as it was steered in a semicircle towards the very road along whichthe boys had traveled not more than an hour or so before.
“Boys,” said he, “I hate to acknowledge it, but Billy must have been surprised by somebody. Probably outnumbered, too. These tracks show that Billy must have put up a good fight; but they were too many for him, whoever they were. Come on! We’ve no time to lose!” And straightway he began following the tracks through the straggly undergrowth until he reached the road.
The others, catching the significance of Phil’s suspicions, plodded after, taking in as they went where the car, avoiding the more open spaces, had plunged through the thicker growth. Evidently those on board were bent on gaining the road by the nearest route, and at a point somewhat beyond where the car had turned off when the boys first reached that place.
To the right was the old tavern, and at one spot the car had stopped where there were signs that a path had been crushed out in traveling through the brush towards the tavern.
“Look here,” said Phil. “What does this mean?”
The signs were plain that something or someone had been half dragged or carried along towards the old Ghost Tavern.
“What had we better do?” exclaimed Dave. “Follow the car or take a look into that old ramshackle building?”
“Gee! Why, Billy may have been carried there—hark!”
At this from Paul all listened intently. There were certainly queer sounds to be heard somewhere ahead. Phil dashed boldly forward, calling:
“Dave, you go back and see which way that car went! Then come back to Paul and me. Get a hustle on now!”
Paul, dashing on after Phil, heard Dave grunt a dubious acquiescence as he turned back towards the road. They could trust Dave. He was often doubtful, even dubious, but he had sharp eyes and good judgment in the main.
A minute or so later Phil, followed closely byJones, reached a more open space, though overgrown with straggly weeds and grass.
“This must be the yard of the old inn,” remarked Phil. “Look, Paul!”
He was pointing where the woods trail on entering the yard showed distinct signs where some hard objects had been half dragged. It was as if boot-heels had dented the soft places in a steady imprint.
Just then came sounds from inside the house that might have been grunts or groans of pain. Without a halt Phil dashed over the porch, where heavier weights had partially crushed the rotten flooring. Avoiding these places, the two boys—Phil still in the lead—entered a short hallway, where was a doorless opening that led into what once had doubtless been the tavern office.
On the floor of the porch and hallway were fresh tracks, with the trail of shoe or boot-heels dragging along. The office room looked dark inside, though a couple of sashless windows let in some light which was, however, little morethan shadowy gloom from the overhanging branches of the trees without. While they stared, listening, something stirred and scraped the dusty floor in a far corner, where a short counter toppled outward as if in danger of falling over.
“What’s that?” echoed Phil. “Is it anybody?”
Muffled, jerky noises issued from the recess under the half tumbling counter. With an exclamation Paul darted forward, reached under the counter and felt an object that at once electrified the boy.
“Let’s pull it out, Phil!” he urged. “It may be—”
Aided by Phil, Paul dragged forth a bound form, tied hand and foot with improvised shreds of cloth, the mouth tightly gagged with a couple of kerchiefs—in a word, Billy!
“Why, Billy, you poor boy!” exclaimed Phil, whipping out his knife and in another minute releasing the cords that bound him and cutting loose the cruel gag that had been so tightlyforced into the lad’s mouth that the corners of his lips were bleeding.
They bore him out of the porch to a grassy place, where with a sudden wriggle Billy sat upright, twisted his neck about, gulped a time or two, then stared at his comrades as if astonished.
“D-didn’t you hear me holler?” he asked. “But of course you didn’t. Before I was half awake they had me down out of that car trying to gag and bind me.”
“Who, Billy? Just what do you mean?”
“I mean those two chaps that caught me fast asleep under Paul’s rug on the back seat, taking forty winks when I ought to have kept wide awake.”
“Two men?” Instantly Phil’s thoughts ran back to the two strangers they had seen at Feeney’s who seemed so anxious to get away as soon as the boys arrived with Nan.
“Would you know them if you saw them? Were they the two strangers we saw at Feeney’s? Think hard, Billy!”
“Confound ’em—they had on handkerchiefs that covered their faces, so I could hardly tell. I didn’t get more’n a glimpse or two along at first. Then they pulled something over my head after gagging me so tight it hurt. My mouth is sore now.” Billy dubiously fingered the corners of his mouth. “One thing I’m sure of. One of the men we saw at Feeney’s had on a visored gray cap and gray clothes. The other wore something darker. I feel sure the gray-clad man was one of ’em. Of course I never got half a glimpse of their faces.”
“Recognize these handkerchiefs?” asked Phil, showing the ones used in binding and gagging. “Two of ’em are bandanas: the others of a soiled, nondescript variety that might have belonged to tramps of any sort.”
By this time Billy was more himself, being pretty well recovered from his recent manhandling. He was the first to think again of the Big Six.
“I’m all right now, fellows. Let’s see what went with the car. They stopped with me somedistance from this old rookery. Gosh! If it wasn’t for the car, I’d like to take a look around!”
But, like Worth, whom they were most glad to have with them again, all hated to feel that the pride of their hearts, their new car, was gone. But where?
At this juncture they were joined by MacLester, who after greeting Billy very effusively for one who had seen him just two hours before, turned to the others, interrupting Worth’s brief recital of what had happened to him.
“Boys,” Dave began, “I followed those tracks about thirty yards or so; then they turned towards the railroad; right through the woods, too. Rough going for a car like ours. I bet she’s all scratched up by now, if nothing worse happens to her.”
“Did you go any further, Dave?” This from Paul eagerly.
“Why, yes! Presently the car struck another old trail that led towards the road, and I picked up this.”
Mac held out the visored cap Worth had mentioned to Paul and Phil. At sight of it Billy grabbed it and turned it over in his hands as he said:
“That’s the one the chap in gray wore, I’m sure.”
“Must ’a’ got knocked off going through the woods,” said Dave. “I think they were in a hurry or they’d never have plunged along the way they did over such rough places.”
“Well, if we’re through here, let’s get on.” Thus spoke Phil, ever mindful of the lost car. “I took a look into a back room of the old tavern, and I saw a queer outfit—looked as if they’d been camping and working there. Saw tools, and what looked like a sort of forge or fireplace. But we’ve no time now for anything but to look after the car. Come on!”
Rapidly now the four lads pushed through the woods along the old road, then into the woods again along the open trail that led recklessly over rocks, through thick undergrowth and over fallen saplings, with here and there uneven riftsand rises, showing that nothing but superior motor power could have propelled the machine thus far.
“Bust their dirty hides!” said Paul wrathfully. “Those two ain’t fit to drive cattle to water! Hello! What’s that?”
Jones, being in the lead, was pointing at a tumbled mass of their own outfit that had been dumped overboard during a rapid downward course, the end of which was not in sight owing to the thicker screen of bushes beyond, which the partially denuded car somehow had crashed through.
Paul and Billy paused to gather up the suitcases, bags of bedding, and the wicker hamper containing their present supply of food, while Dave and Phil hurried ahead, their route roughly descending now until, reaching the thick screen where the car had crashed through, they came unexpectedly to a low embankment. At the bottom was the dry bed of a small brooklet, with a further shore that sloped gradually up into second-growth timber again.
But this was not all. Right below the two boys was the Big Six; not upright, but lying on its side, two wheels in the air, yet apparently uninjured. Uttering a shout of joy at sight of the beloved car, Dave jumped down the declivity, the irregular projections of which had doubtless caused the Six to turn over under the reckless driving it had been subjected to ever since it had been seized.
CHAPTER XIVUNDER THE CARReassured as to the fate of the car, Phil was about to turn back to where Paul and Billy were still picking up the things, when Dave’s voice was heard:“Oh, Phil! Here’s trouble! Come on down here—quick!”Shouting back to the two lads behind that the car was found, Phil jumped down and ran round to where Dave was staring at something on the ground. Meantime catching the meaning of Phil’s words, Paul and Billy hurried forward with the loads they already had.“Geemineddy!” This was of course by Paul, always emphatic and exclamatory. “If I ever get my hands on that old Six again, I bet she don’t go out of my reckoning soon!”“I know just how you feel, Paul. I was toblame, but—oh, don’t I wish we had the chaps that did it!”The two, their hands filled with sundry belongings, were hastening after Phil who had vanished from their view. Down the slope, over the jagged embankment they hurried, giving a yell as they saw the Big Six upturned, but apparently safe. The tops of Dave’s and Phil’s heads bobbed up and down on the further side of the car.Reaching the spot, what was their surprise to see the body of a man lying prone on the ground, his legs and part of his body fairly under the car. Billy, after one look, gave a gasp of amazement. The man was bareheaded, his face half turned under and pressed against the ground.“Here, boys,” began Phil. “Drop everything and let’s turn the car off his body!”By the united efforts of all the Big Six was lifted at the forward end so that the weight of the car no longer rested on the dead or insensible man.“Boys,” said Billy, “that’s the man in gray who wore the visored cap we found back yonder. I’ll swear to that. Is he dead?”Phil and Dave, stooping closely, examined the man, and in so doing turned his head to one side. There, near the temple, was a purplish blot, from which a few drops of blood were trickling. At the same time certain movements, not unlike muscular tremors, were evident in body and limbs.“Why, he’s alive!” said Paul. “Let’s get him more comfortably placed.”While this was being done Worth picked up a tin cup, ran to a rocky puddle in the dried brooklet where some water was left, and returning with the filled cup bathed the fellow’s face and head, very gently now that they knew life was not extinct.This, aided by the more comfortable position in which he had been placed, had such effect that the man’s eyes soon opened. He groaned as he breathed, while with one hand he attempted to feel his head near what was now seen to be abullet wound. Paul, wiping his head, felt a protuberance under his hair, and directly thereafter drew forth a small pointed bullet, such as is much used with pocket pistols of the Smith & Wesson type.“Well, well!” exclaimed that lively youth. “If here ain’t a regular twenty-two pistol ball. It must have glanced along under the skin near the temple and come out again. Who could have done it?”When the man felt Paul’s hand extracting the ball from his mass of touzled hair, he clutched at the place, saying:“I always—told—Dippy—that gun—was no—good—” A scuffling sigh, and the fellow was again in a swoon.What had they better do now? Here was their car, all right except for some scars and bruises incurred during the last flight after Billy was captured and stowed away in the old tavern. Where was the other man? As usual in such stress, Phil again took command of the situation.“This man’s not dead. He may recover. He’s either been shot by someone or he’s shot himself, which isn’t likely.”Here the man struggled into a half sitting position, as he murmured:“Didn’t sh-shoot myself! Dippy shot—me! Dippy always—poor—shot—”Then with a groan he fell back again into a state of coma. Phil, looking hastily over the car, now said:“Help right the car, boys.”This was accomplished almost as soon as said, by simply easing the upper side down so that the Six again stood on “all-fours,” as Paul expressed it. It stood squarely across the brook-bed, headed towards the railroad which here was not more than an eighth of a mile distant.“Now, Paul,” resumed Phil, “you hike across through the brush to the railroad, if necessary. It may be the real highway lays over there somewhere. Pick out the easiest way to get our car there. We can hardly go back the way we came, can we?” The others shook their heads at this.“When you’re through, come back. Mebbe we’ll meet you on the way.”Without a word Paul vanished in the thick undergrowth beyond the brooklet. Meanwhile Dave was examining the car, which he pronounced uninjured by the rough usage to which it had been subjected with the exception of sundry scars and a slight twist in one of the minor connecting rods, easy to readjust. Both he and Phil were kept busy restoring the things that had been dumped out by the fleeing couple during the last stages of that hurried flight to—where? Probably where they thought the nearest open road would be; or perhaps it was the railroad and the nearest station they sought.When Paul came back, he said that they were only a short distance to the new highway and the railroad. The guide book told them that they were within a very few miles of a small station east, while Midlandville, the nearest town west, was not more than two hours away, with a good road.“Better put that chap in the tonneau, hadn’t we?” suggested Worth.“Aw, where’ll we take him?” This from Dave who now was in the driver’s seat.“Looks like we had enough trouble long of him and his mate as it is.”“Put him in back, of course,” corrected Phil. “If these two are in bad about something, it is our duty to keep track of this one, for the present at least. Who knows? He may give us a pointer yet as to what they were up to.”So the wounded man, despite his querulous complaints, was put in the tonneau with Billy and Paul to assist him and do whatever was necessary to make him as comfortable as conditions would permit.Then the Big Six was started. As has been stated, the incline being gradual, the big car, carefully steered, had less trouble in making the remainder of the trip to the new highway than the boys anticipated. True, with the injured man and the equipment of the lads the carwas rather crowded, but the motor did its duty, the purring sounds being as even as could be wished. Paul, on his return, had broken down a sort of trail which it was not difficult to follow.Arrived at the roadway it had been already determined that, as the day was already well spent, they would return to Feeney’s for the night, then make for Midlandville in the morning.“Won’t old Feeney open his eyes when we tell him what those two strangers were up to to-day?” remarked Paul who, tired of fanning the wounded man, had managed to exchange with Dave.Not far from where they turned into the highway, it veered southward, leaving the railroad to the right, and a mile further crossed the old road along which the boys had motored that morning on their way to the old tavern.To say that they were cordially received by Mr. Feeney would be only the truth. At sight of the bareheaded man in gray, his visored capsomewhere among the things in the car, Pat eyed him perplexedly, saying:“Holy Moses! Little did I think to see the likes of you back again!”The wounded man opened his eyes slowly and blinked the lids when he saw they were carrying him to the house from the car.“Dippy done it—yes—Dippy—he done it.” Then he fainted away again.After the wounded man was placed on a cot in a small shed room attached to Feeney’s not very commodious house, Pat took Phil and Worth aside, while Dave and Paul remained with the stranger. It was felt intuitively that the man should be closely watched. Why none of them knew exactly, except that their methods with Billy and the taking of the car indicated that something was wrong, somewhere. What it might be, of course none of them as yet had any distinct idea. Feeney scratched his head meditatively, as he said to Phil:“Them two fellers come here about night, afore you boys appeared. They wanted to stayall night and after breakfast they had my wife put up some grub; quite a lot of it. But when you came in, all at once they took a notion to leave, sudden-like. After they was gone my woman found the stuff we’d packed up, which they seemed to have forgotten. That’s all we seen of ’em until you came in here with that one in the fix he’s in now.”“It all does look mysterious,” remarked Phil. “From a hasty look we took in the old tavern we saw what looked like a forge and some tools. I thought I glimpsed some dies but I might have been mistaken.”“Wait a minute,” broke in Pat, going to the door of the kitchen. “Ma,” he called out, “any sign of Nan and Dan yet?”A broad-bosomed, red-faced woman appeared for a minute at the open doorway, as she replied:“No, Pat, I ain’t seen nothin’. I went to the bend of the road, too. It’s time they was here onless something’s bothered them.”Coming back to the two boys, Feeney explained:“Last night, ruther late, Bill Spivee, our nearest neighbor to the west, came over. He’s got a telephone and he says that the Midlandville op’rator asked him if any strangers had been round lately. Bill told ’em he hadn’t seen any, but that two fellers had stopped here, for I’d told him that when we met up after puttin’ up some marsh hay yon way,” jerking a thumb southward. “We often puts up wild grass together.“Well, later they ’phones ag’in. Asks Bill to see me right away and find out all he could ’bout them strangers. If it was what they thought, them fellers was wanted right away.”Feeney pointed towards the shed-room, as he continued: “We mustn’t let go of that chap, whatever happens, until we knows more.”“I should say not,” put in Worth, who quickly related what these strangers had done to him. Then Phil briefly described the subsequent proceedings,including their finding the man senseless under the overturned car, and with the pistol wound, finally showing the bullet that had been found in his hair, which had glanced from the skull, as we have described. Feeney looked at the bullet.“Smith & Wesson pistol sure!” He thought a moment. “I think I saw that pistol when the man that is missing changed some of his things, as I was passing their door. After thinking it all over, I sent Dan and Nan on horseback, soon after you all left, but I didn’t say nothing, for I didn’t really know nothing. We needed more coffee, and that was a good excuse. But I told the kids to be sure and see the operator of the telephone booth and try to find out what was the matter. I reckon we’ll know if they ever get back.”Mrs. Feeney now appeared in the doorway and excitedly pointed westward.“Nan and Dan’s a-comin’. I can see ’em out at the kitchen back door. There’s nobody with ’em as I can see.”Just then Paul came in to say:“That chap’s come to again. Looks like he’s worrying some. What ought Dave and I to do? He seems to want Dippy, as he calls that mate of his.”Phil accompanied Paul back, while Worth remained with Pat to wait for the arrival of the girl and boy. Their horses seemed tired, and stood with drooping heads while they dismounted, delivered the coffee to their mother and glanced shyly at Billy as the father explained briefly what had happened.The children brought news that as soon as a telegram could reach Midlandville, two officers would start at once for Feeney’s place. Might get there some time in the night.“Well, here’s a pretty to-do!” exclaimed Mrs. Feeney. “How am I goin’ to feed so many strangers? You know, Pat, we’re pretty near out of flour.”“Shucks, mother! We got plenty of meal and hog meat, and there’s vegetables. We’ll not starve. Besides,” here he whispered inMrs. Feeney’s ear, “you’ll get some money from ’em, eh? I knows you—”“Pat, you know you’re not going to charge them four boys, if they stay a week. I’ve heard ye say so.”“Now, Mrs. Feeney,” put in Billy, “don’t you worry! We boys are not going to cost you a dollar more than we’ll pay back. We like you folks.” Here Billy winked boldly at Nan who laughed as she slightly blushed. “Anything will do us.”“You sure are good boys,” nodded Mrs. Feeney. “You were nice to my folks on the way from the hay market. Pat and me are glad to have ye. But these others—real strangers, that might be different.”“Oh, Billy,” called Paul from the shed doorway, “please come here!”Thus summoned, the two at once followed Paul into where the sick man was picking at his wounded head and moaning:“Dippy—done—it. What’d you do it for, Dippy?” A series of feeble coughings ensued,and the man again seemed to swoon away.“That’s the way he keeps going on,” remarked Worth, regarding Phil attentively. “Reckon he ought to have a—a doctor?”After another short consultation Dan, who meanwhile had eaten and felt refreshed and rested, set out on another horse for the nearest physician.“Tell Doc the whole story, Dan,” urged the father. “If we get any sense outen him, mebbe it will help undo this mystery that surrounds the whole business. Tell him I won’t pay his bill, but the county probably will. Thurfore he can stick it up to a pretty stiff figure.”Meanwhile Phil had been conferring with his three chums apart.“I’ve made up my mind that some of us ought to visit that old tavern again. There’s something up down there or I’m a fool in judging by appearances. How do we know that this Dippy, as that chap calls his mate, may not slip in, having, as he may think, killed his partner, and destroy what I saw when we went in afterBilly? We’ve got time now. We can take the car—Worth and me.”“That sounds bully,” exclaimed Worth. “I’m with you. They kidnaped me; I want to get even.”The only trouble now was that both Dave and Paul wanted to be “on,” in this adventure; but they yielded when Phil made it plain that part of them must remain at Feeney’s to make sure that the one they had captured was in safe keeping. They all felt that if anything serious were in all this, it was incumbent on all of them to be where things would go smoothly.“Well then,” remarked Phil in low tones, “when Billy and I are gone, it falls on you, (meaning Dave and Paul) to help Feeney when anything happens.”Just then the wounded man suddenly sat up in bed, clapped a hand upon his forehead and began to mumble to himself.“No—good—” he began. “Metal—dies—all there. Then—Dippy—tries to kill—me—”“Who are you anyway?” suddenly demanded Phil, spurred by a sudden hope that in his delirium the wounded man might let out something as his now disordered brain appeared to connect the present with what he remembered of the past.“Me?” The man stared vacantly past Phil at the wall. “I—I’m Jimmy—Horr. I’m—I’m—” His voice trailed off into a mumble.Phil bent forward close as he demanded:“If you are Jimmy Horr, who is Dippy? You’ve been calling him often enough. We want to find him.”“D-Dippy—he—he’s my partner. He’s—he’s Dippy Quinn—he—” Again he stared, straight now at Phil. “Wh—who be you?”Still staring, he fell back, trembling as if in pain, muttering:“My head—my—he—head!” Then his eyes closed and he was off in another apparent swoon.“Come on, Billy,” said Phil. “Let us be off! Are the things out of the car?”“Most of them,” replied Dave. “I put ’em in the porch. Don’t be gone longer than you can help.”In they jumped, Phil at the wheel, and the car purred softly down the old woods road towards the Ghost Tavern. Whether either of them knew their departure was observed by the Feeneys was not important, and gave them no concern. Both now felt that no time should be lost in finding out if the partner of Horr was yet in that vicinity. Despite the improbability, Phil could not help feeling that if those two had been doing wrong in the old inn, it might be that the survivor, as he probably deemed himself, might wish to pay a final visit there before taking his stealthy departure.In fact, so mysterious was the whole series of adventures which the boys had gone through that almost anything might happen. In due time the Big Six drew up near the old tavern, and the boys cunningly hid the car behind a screen of shrubbery, where it would hardly be seen if any one should pass by. Still Phil, inview of what had happened to the car, made a suggestion.“You stay here, Billy; at least until I call you or you see something is happening. If I find anyone or anything that’s dangerous, I’ll let you know.”“Will you—sure?” queried Worth anxiously.Before Phil, now out of the car and heading for the porch could answer, there came the muffled sound of something inside the inn being moved. At the sound Billy seized a heavy walking stick from the driver’s seat, which no one ever used, but which was carried simply because it might some time come handy. Giving this to Phil, he himself took a short thick rubber tube used at times when gasoline was transferred from a tank to the machine reservoir.“I’m going with you, Phil,” he whispered. “No use to say no!”
CHAPTER XIV
UNDER THE CAR
Reassured as to the fate of the car, Phil was about to turn back to where Paul and Billy were still picking up the things, when Dave’s voice was heard:
“Oh, Phil! Here’s trouble! Come on down here—quick!”
Shouting back to the two lads behind that the car was found, Phil jumped down and ran round to where Dave was staring at something on the ground. Meantime catching the meaning of Phil’s words, Paul and Billy hurried forward with the loads they already had.
“Geemineddy!” This was of course by Paul, always emphatic and exclamatory. “If I ever get my hands on that old Six again, I bet she don’t go out of my reckoning soon!”
“I know just how you feel, Paul. I was toblame, but—oh, don’t I wish we had the chaps that did it!”
The two, their hands filled with sundry belongings, were hastening after Phil who had vanished from their view. Down the slope, over the jagged embankment they hurried, giving a yell as they saw the Big Six upturned, but apparently safe. The tops of Dave’s and Phil’s heads bobbed up and down on the further side of the car.
Reaching the spot, what was their surprise to see the body of a man lying prone on the ground, his legs and part of his body fairly under the car. Billy, after one look, gave a gasp of amazement. The man was bareheaded, his face half turned under and pressed against the ground.
“Here, boys,” began Phil. “Drop everything and let’s turn the car off his body!”
By the united efforts of all the Big Six was lifted at the forward end so that the weight of the car no longer rested on the dead or insensible man.
“Boys,” said Billy, “that’s the man in gray who wore the visored cap we found back yonder. I’ll swear to that. Is he dead?”
Phil and Dave, stooping closely, examined the man, and in so doing turned his head to one side. There, near the temple, was a purplish blot, from which a few drops of blood were trickling. At the same time certain movements, not unlike muscular tremors, were evident in body and limbs.
“Why, he’s alive!” said Paul. “Let’s get him more comfortably placed.”
While this was being done Worth picked up a tin cup, ran to a rocky puddle in the dried brooklet where some water was left, and returning with the filled cup bathed the fellow’s face and head, very gently now that they knew life was not extinct.
This, aided by the more comfortable position in which he had been placed, had such effect that the man’s eyes soon opened. He groaned as he breathed, while with one hand he attempted to feel his head near what was now seen to be abullet wound. Paul, wiping his head, felt a protuberance under his hair, and directly thereafter drew forth a small pointed bullet, such as is much used with pocket pistols of the Smith & Wesson type.
“Well, well!” exclaimed that lively youth. “If here ain’t a regular twenty-two pistol ball. It must have glanced along under the skin near the temple and come out again. Who could have done it?”
When the man felt Paul’s hand extracting the ball from his mass of touzled hair, he clutched at the place, saying:
“I always—told—Dippy—that gun—was no—good—” A scuffling sigh, and the fellow was again in a swoon.
What had they better do now? Here was their car, all right except for some scars and bruises incurred during the last flight after Billy was captured and stowed away in the old tavern. Where was the other man? As usual in such stress, Phil again took command of the situation.
“This man’s not dead. He may recover. He’s either been shot by someone or he’s shot himself, which isn’t likely.”
Here the man struggled into a half sitting position, as he murmured:
“Didn’t sh-shoot myself! Dippy shot—me! Dippy always—poor—shot—”
Then with a groan he fell back again into a state of coma. Phil, looking hastily over the car, now said:
“Help right the car, boys.”
This was accomplished almost as soon as said, by simply easing the upper side down so that the Six again stood on “all-fours,” as Paul expressed it. It stood squarely across the brook-bed, headed towards the railroad which here was not more than an eighth of a mile distant.
“Now, Paul,” resumed Phil, “you hike across through the brush to the railroad, if necessary. It may be the real highway lays over there somewhere. Pick out the easiest way to get our car there. We can hardly go back the way we came, can we?” The others shook their heads at this.“When you’re through, come back. Mebbe we’ll meet you on the way.”
Without a word Paul vanished in the thick undergrowth beyond the brooklet. Meanwhile Dave was examining the car, which he pronounced uninjured by the rough usage to which it had been subjected with the exception of sundry scars and a slight twist in one of the minor connecting rods, easy to readjust. Both he and Phil were kept busy restoring the things that had been dumped out by the fleeing couple during the last stages of that hurried flight to—where? Probably where they thought the nearest open road would be; or perhaps it was the railroad and the nearest station they sought.
When Paul came back, he said that they were only a short distance to the new highway and the railroad. The guide book told them that they were within a very few miles of a small station east, while Midlandville, the nearest town west, was not more than two hours away, with a good road.
“Better put that chap in the tonneau, hadn’t we?” suggested Worth.
“Aw, where’ll we take him?” This from Dave who now was in the driver’s seat.
“Looks like we had enough trouble long of him and his mate as it is.”
“Put him in back, of course,” corrected Phil. “If these two are in bad about something, it is our duty to keep track of this one, for the present at least. Who knows? He may give us a pointer yet as to what they were up to.”
So the wounded man, despite his querulous complaints, was put in the tonneau with Billy and Paul to assist him and do whatever was necessary to make him as comfortable as conditions would permit.
Then the Big Six was started. As has been stated, the incline being gradual, the big car, carefully steered, had less trouble in making the remainder of the trip to the new highway than the boys anticipated. True, with the injured man and the equipment of the lads the carwas rather crowded, but the motor did its duty, the purring sounds being as even as could be wished. Paul, on his return, had broken down a sort of trail which it was not difficult to follow.
Arrived at the roadway it had been already determined that, as the day was already well spent, they would return to Feeney’s for the night, then make for Midlandville in the morning.
“Won’t old Feeney open his eyes when we tell him what those two strangers were up to to-day?” remarked Paul who, tired of fanning the wounded man, had managed to exchange with Dave.
Not far from where they turned into the highway, it veered southward, leaving the railroad to the right, and a mile further crossed the old road along which the boys had motored that morning on their way to the old tavern.
To say that they were cordially received by Mr. Feeney would be only the truth. At sight of the bareheaded man in gray, his visored capsomewhere among the things in the car, Pat eyed him perplexedly, saying:
“Holy Moses! Little did I think to see the likes of you back again!”
The wounded man opened his eyes slowly and blinked the lids when he saw they were carrying him to the house from the car.
“Dippy done it—yes—Dippy—he done it.” Then he fainted away again.
After the wounded man was placed on a cot in a small shed room attached to Feeney’s not very commodious house, Pat took Phil and Worth aside, while Dave and Paul remained with the stranger. It was felt intuitively that the man should be closely watched. Why none of them knew exactly, except that their methods with Billy and the taking of the car indicated that something was wrong, somewhere. What it might be, of course none of them as yet had any distinct idea. Feeney scratched his head meditatively, as he said to Phil:
“Them two fellers come here about night, afore you boys appeared. They wanted to stayall night and after breakfast they had my wife put up some grub; quite a lot of it. But when you came in, all at once they took a notion to leave, sudden-like. After they was gone my woman found the stuff we’d packed up, which they seemed to have forgotten. That’s all we seen of ’em until you came in here with that one in the fix he’s in now.”
“It all does look mysterious,” remarked Phil. “From a hasty look we took in the old tavern we saw what looked like a forge and some tools. I thought I glimpsed some dies but I might have been mistaken.”
“Wait a minute,” broke in Pat, going to the door of the kitchen. “Ma,” he called out, “any sign of Nan and Dan yet?”
A broad-bosomed, red-faced woman appeared for a minute at the open doorway, as she replied:
“No, Pat, I ain’t seen nothin’. I went to the bend of the road, too. It’s time they was here onless something’s bothered them.”
Coming back to the two boys, Feeney explained:
“Last night, ruther late, Bill Spivee, our nearest neighbor to the west, came over. He’s got a telephone and he says that the Midlandville op’rator asked him if any strangers had been round lately. Bill told ’em he hadn’t seen any, but that two fellers had stopped here, for I’d told him that when we met up after puttin’ up some marsh hay yon way,” jerking a thumb southward. “We often puts up wild grass together.
“Well, later they ’phones ag’in. Asks Bill to see me right away and find out all he could ’bout them strangers. If it was what they thought, them fellers was wanted right away.”
Feeney pointed towards the shed-room, as he continued: “We mustn’t let go of that chap, whatever happens, until we knows more.”
“I should say not,” put in Worth, who quickly related what these strangers had done to him. Then Phil briefly described the subsequent proceedings,including their finding the man senseless under the overturned car, and with the pistol wound, finally showing the bullet that had been found in his hair, which had glanced from the skull, as we have described. Feeney looked at the bullet.
“Smith & Wesson pistol sure!” He thought a moment. “I think I saw that pistol when the man that is missing changed some of his things, as I was passing their door. After thinking it all over, I sent Dan and Nan on horseback, soon after you all left, but I didn’t say nothing, for I didn’t really know nothing. We needed more coffee, and that was a good excuse. But I told the kids to be sure and see the operator of the telephone booth and try to find out what was the matter. I reckon we’ll know if they ever get back.”
Mrs. Feeney now appeared in the doorway and excitedly pointed westward.
“Nan and Dan’s a-comin’. I can see ’em out at the kitchen back door. There’s nobody with ’em as I can see.”
Just then Paul came in to say:
“That chap’s come to again. Looks like he’s worrying some. What ought Dave and I to do? He seems to want Dippy, as he calls that mate of his.”
Phil accompanied Paul back, while Worth remained with Pat to wait for the arrival of the girl and boy. Their horses seemed tired, and stood with drooping heads while they dismounted, delivered the coffee to their mother and glanced shyly at Billy as the father explained briefly what had happened.
The children brought news that as soon as a telegram could reach Midlandville, two officers would start at once for Feeney’s place. Might get there some time in the night.
“Well, here’s a pretty to-do!” exclaimed Mrs. Feeney. “How am I goin’ to feed so many strangers? You know, Pat, we’re pretty near out of flour.”
“Shucks, mother! We got plenty of meal and hog meat, and there’s vegetables. We’ll not starve. Besides,” here he whispered inMrs. Feeney’s ear, “you’ll get some money from ’em, eh? I knows you—”
“Pat, you know you’re not going to charge them four boys, if they stay a week. I’ve heard ye say so.”
“Now, Mrs. Feeney,” put in Billy, “don’t you worry! We boys are not going to cost you a dollar more than we’ll pay back. We like you folks.” Here Billy winked boldly at Nan who laughed as she slightly blushed. “Anything will do us.”
“You sure are good boys,” nodded Mrs. Feeney. “You were nice to my folks on the way from the hay market. Pat and me are glad to have ye. But these others—real strangers, that might be different.”
“Oh, Billy,” called Paul from the shed doorway, “please come here!”
Thus summoned, the two at once followed Paul into where the sick man was picking at his wounded head and moaning:
“Dippy—done—it. What’d you do it for, Dippy?” A series of feeble coughings ensued,and the man again seemed to swoon away.
“That’s the way he keeps going on,” remarked Worth, regarding Phil attentively. “Reckon he ought to have a—a doctor?”
After another short consultation Dan, who meanwhile had eaten and felt refreshed and rested, set out on another horse for the nearest physician.
“Tell Doc the whole story, Dan,” urged the father. “If we get any sense outen him, mebbe it will help undo this mystery that surrounds the whole business. Tell him I won’t pay his bill, but the county probably will. Thurfore he can stick it up to a pretty stiff figure.”
Meanwhile Phil had been conferring with his three chums apart.
“I’ve made up my mind that some of us ought to visit that old tavern again. There’s something up down there or I’m a fool in judging by appearances. How do we know that this Dippy, as that chap calls his mate, may not slip in, having, as he may think, killed his partner, and destroy what I saw when we went in afterBilly? We’ve got time now. We can take the car—Worth and me.”
“That sounds bully,” exclaimed Worth. “I’m with you. They kidnaped me; I want to get even.”
The only trouble now was that both Dave and Paul wanted to be “on,” in this adventure; but they yielded when Phil made it plain that part of them must remain at Feeney’s to make sure that the one they had captured was in safe keeping. They all felt that if anything serious were in all this, it was incumbent on all of them to be where things would go smoothly.
“Well then,” remarked Phil in low tones, “when Billy and I are gone, it falls on you, (meaning Dave and Paul) to help Feeney when anything happens.”
Just then the wounded man suddenly sat up in bed, clapped a hand upon his forehead and began to mumble to himself.
“No—good—” he began. “Metal—dies—all there. Then—Dippy—tries to kill—me—”
“Who are you anyway?” suddenly demanded Phil, spurred by a sudden hope that in his delirium the wounded man might let out something as his now disordered brain appeared to connect the present with what he remembered of the past.
“Me?” The man stared vacantly past Phil at the wall. “I—I’m Jimmy—Horr. I’m—I’m—” His voice trailed off into a mumble.
Phil bent forward close as he demanded:
“If you are Jimmy Horr, who is Dippy? You’ve been calling him often enough. We want to find him.”
“D-Dippy—he—he’s my partner. He’s—he’s Dippy Quinn—he—” Again he stared, straight now at Phil. “Wh—who be you?”
Still staring, he fell back, trembling as if in pain, muttering:
“My head—my—he—head!” Then his eyes closed and he was off in another apparent swoon.
“Come on, Billy,” said Phil. “Let us be off! Are the things out of the car?”
“Most of them,” replied Dave. “I put ’em in the porch. Don’t be gone longer than you can help.”
In they jumped, Phil at the wheel, and the car purred softly down the old woods road towards the Ghost Tavern. Whether either of them knew their departure was observed by the Feeneys was not important, and gave them no concern. Both now felt that no time should be lost in finding out if the partner of Horr was yet in that vicinity. Despite the improbability, Phil could not help feeling that if those two had been doing wrong in the old inn, it might be that the survivor, as he probably deemed himself, might wish to pay a final visit there before taking his stealthy departure.
In fact, so mysterious was the whole series of adventures which the boys had gone through that almost anything might happen. In due time the Big Six drew up near the old tavern, and the boys cunningly hid the car behind a screen of shrubbery, where it would hardly be seen if any one should pass by. Still Phil, inview of what had happened to the car, made a suggestion.
“You stay here, Billy; at least until I call you or you see something is happening. If I find anyone or anything that’s dangerous, I’ll let you know.”
“Will you—sure?” queried Worth anxiously.
Before Phil, now out of the car and heading for the porch could answer, there came the muffled sound of something inside the inn being moved. At the sound Billy seized a heavy walking stick from the driver’s seat, which no one ever used, but which was carried simply because it might some time come handy. Giving this to Phil, he himself took a short thick rubber tube used at times when gasoline was transferred from a tank to the machine reservoir.
“I’m going with you, Phil,” he whispered. “No use to say no!”