CHAPTER XV
ON THE TRAIL
Their hearts oppressed with a sense of foreboding which they could not fathom, Tom Swift and Ned Newton hurried down the broad front steps of the old mansion, out into the wind and rain, and hurried toward the clearing where they had left the warm, lighted, and cozy House on Wheels. For a moment they hoped that perhaps the lighting system had failed and that they could not see the big auto because it was shrouded in darkness.
But as they lighted their way by means of their pocket flashlights and reached the spot, near two large, distinctive trees where they had halted the big auto, there was no question about it. Their car had been taken away! It could not have rolled downhill, for it had been stopped on a level spot, and Tom had taken pains to set the brakes.
"Some one came and got it!" exclaimed Tom, when it was certain that the machine had vanished.
"Who was it?" came from Ned.
"Hard to say. But I guess we weren't wrong, Ned, in suspecting that we were being spied upon by unseen eyes in that old house."
"I'm forced to believe that."
"While some watched us inside, to make sure we wouldn't come out and interrupt the theft, others stole the House," declared Tom.
"Looks so," commented Ned. "Gee, but this is tough luck! What are we going to do now?"
"We've got to hit the trail, of course, and see if we can't get it back," was Tom Swift's prompt answer.
Though they were hungry and tired, the two young men did not hesitate. In fact, they could not. Much depended on prompt action, for the House on Wheels could not long have been taken away. Luckily Tom and Ned had on rubber boots and rain coats, and their little electric flashlights enabled them to see the trail. Without them they would have been at a great disadvantage.
But with these gleams, flashing occasionally so as not to wear out the batteries too fast, the two first made sure where the big auto had stood and then began to trail it.
"They first swung around in a half circle and then went off this way," said Tom, pointing to the peculiar marks in the mud left by the tires of the House on Wheels. They were tires especially made for heavy duty and marked with ridges designed to prevent skidding, so the trail was easily followed, particularly as the wet ground took a deep impression.
"It ought to be a cinch to trace her," remarked Ned, as the two young men hurried on, their weariness and hunger forgotten in the excitement of the chase.
"Yes, for a way, anyhow," agreed Tom. "But we may not always have soft dirt roads like this to retain the marks. Though I don't believe there are any concrete stretches in this neighborhood," and he motioned toward Dismal Mountain, up the trail of which the House on Wheels clearly had been driven.
"The ground will be soft for a couple of days after this rain, and we can keep on following," suggested Ned.
"They may get too far ahead of us to leave us a Chinaman's chance," said Tom, with a sigh. "Remember, we're walking, and if the House only crawled it could do ten miles to our one. Besides, they may run her down off this mountain and onto a hard road, and then the tire marks won't be one, two, six!"
On they splashed in the rain and darkness. The road taken by the House on Wheels, as evidenced by the tire marks, led up the mountain and the deserted house, with its gloom, its secrets and its spying eyes, was soon left in the rear of the young men who pressed on, now and then flashing their torches to make sure they were still on the right trail.
"Hark!" exclaimed Tom suddenly, when they had been thus going for several minutes.
"What is it?" asked Ned, coming to a halt.
"Let's listen and try to hear the motor," suggested the young inventor. "I have an idea those fellows, whoever they are, won't push the machine too hard. They may run her only a little way and then lay over for the night."
Accordingly, the two stood there with the rain dripping on them, listening. But the only sounds that came to their ears were those of the storm—the wind and rain, the clattering of tree branches, and the swish of wet leaves.
"No use trying to hear anything," stated Ned, after a pause.
"No, I guess there isn't. We'll keep on."
Again the two plunged forward along the muddy road. They blessed their lucky stars that had given them the forethought to put on rubber boots and coats before venturing around and into the old house.
Tom, also, was glad he had equipped his car with those heavy and peculiarly marked tires, for they were very easy to follow, even under the adverse circumstances of rain and darkness.
In spite of the fact that the noise of the storm would seem to preclude their hearing any sound made by the car ahead of them, Tom and Ned stopped several more times and listened for any faint echo of a motor ahead of them. But they heard nothing.
"Maybe I'm wrong, Ned," said Tom, after a while, pausing at a sandy stretch in the road, where the wheel marks were very plain, "but doesn't it strike you that these tire impressions are fresher than they have been for some time back?"
"Fresher? Anybody would think we were trailing an elephant or some wild animal."
"Well, we are, in a way. But you see the rain has the effect of washing out the marks after a certain time. Now these marks here are sharp and fresh."
"Yes, I admit it," said Ned. "But what of it?"
"Well," and Tom's voice had a note of triumph in it, "to me this means that my House has passed here within a short time—minutes I should say—otherwise the hard rain would have washed down some of the tire ridges."
"Tom, you're right!" cried Ned. "She ought to be close now."
"That's what I think. Come on!"
Once more the two plunged forward. The tire marks continued to become ever fresher until the seekers reached a place where a small road branched off the main highway.
"They went up here!" cried Tom, indicating the trail that led up the branch road.
"Sure enough!" assented Ned, flashing his light on the marks.
Up the road the two fairly ran until, so quickly that it was startling, they came upon the big auto at a standstill in the middle of the highway. The House on Wheels was in darkness, but there it was.
"We've found her!" exulted Tom, but he had the caution to speak in low tones.
"Sure enough," agreed Ned and his voice was hardly more than a whisper. "But what's the game, I wonder?"
That remained to be seen.