ADVENTURE BEFALLS THE CHOSEN TRIO
The stable's one window, composed of two small panes of extremely dirty
glass, admitted to the young gentlemen within a dingy light. The shed
was empty, save for the dirt and litter everywhere; but not one crack or
crevice could be seen to suggest a loose board and possible means of
escape. Clambering up to the little window, however, Freddy Perth
discovered that it was hooked inside and he lost no time in admitting
the air and sunlight.
"Can wriggle through here, all right, if we want to do it!" he exclaimed
in loud undertones.
"Get along then, quick!" ordered Pickton. "S'pose we're going to stay
here and get fined? You right after me, Soapy!"
Ordinarily Pick would have shown Gaines a very noticeable deference in
allowing him to go first; but this was a different situation. He even
resented Fred's being ahead of himself, and fumed irritably while that
young fellow was slowly struggling through the narrow opening.
With no ledge or projection of any kind on the outer wall to steady him,
Perth could only slip one foot and then the other through the window,
let his body follow and drop to the ground. He struck in the midst of a
wet and sticky heap of decaying weeds, garbage, tin cans, ashes and
broken crockery but fortunately, upon his feet.
More frightened than ever, now, he viewed impatiently Pickton's painful
efforts to force himself out of the stable by the same route, and his
eventual success.
"For pity's sake, Gaines, don't be all day!" admonished Pick fretfully,
when finally he had reached the ground in safety. "Let go, now! You're
all right! Hangin' on there like a crazy pinchin' bug!"
Thus pleasantly encouraged, Soapy had by this time his head and body
through the aperture, and was moved, yet loath, to let go his desperate
grasp upon the edges of the window's frame. Stupidly he had not advanced
feet first and in consequence there was but one chance in a thousand of
his being able to alight upon those extremities when he let himself
down. However the urgency of the situation as well as his friend's
caustic remarks determined him to make the effort and with a subdued
groan he pitched forward.
It was only as might be expected, under the circumstances, that when
Gaines sought to leap clear of the window and get his feet in under him,
he failed--failed wretchedly. His head plunged into a large, and sadly
decomposed pumpkin, carried out to the heap of refuse when Mrs. Gouger
had cleaned the cellar recently. His hands grasped only the wet,
decaying weeds and, unable to steady himself, he rolled on his back amid
the cans, the ashes and all that the rank heap contained.
If there was consolation for young Mr. Gaines in the fact that the
pumpkin had broken the force of his fall, he expressed it in a weird and
peculiar manner, as he struggled out. If he found reason to congratulate
himself that, beyond a mixture of pumpkin pulp and seeds upon his face
and in his hair, and sundry sorts of decomposed vegetation clinging to
his hands and arms and clothing, he was not injured, he did this,
likewise, in strangely excited, irritated language.
Perhaps he was thinking of other things than either consolation or
congratulations. Nevertheless he let Perth lead him quickly to the car,
half-blinded with the juices of the pumpkin in his eyes. Pickton had the
engine going, and Soapy was pushed and lifted into his seat with more
dispatch than ceremony. Even while Fred climbed up to the rumble the
automobile was put under way. Then out of the alley and down the side
street it lunged as if Eli Gouger were but a yard behind.
To follow the side streets to the city's outskirts, and avoid every
thoroughfare that looked like a principal artery of the town, was
Pickton's plan. For some distance he put on great speed, but later
heeded Perth's suggestion to go more slowly and so attract less notice.
And as even moderate driving would take one from center to circumference
of Sagersgrove in no great length of time, the Roadster was well into
the country within a quarter of an hour.
But on and on Pickton hurried. Whither he went he cared not, nor looked
to see where he might turn to left or right. He wanted only to leave
behind as far as possible the pursuers he believed would certainly be
coming on.
"We'll be at the south pole sooner than the Queensville race course at
this rate," Freddy Perth shouted, at last. "Head down the first likely
looking road west. Great guns! Things aren't so desperate as all this!"
Soapy Gaines, still bearing noticeable evidence in his hair and on his
clothing of his plunge from the window, but now able to see as usual,
vehemently acquiesced in Perth's suggestion.
"Never saw a man lose his head so!" he growled, with reference to
Pickton's frantic haste, regardless of direction. "We're after that Phil
Way outfit, don't you know it! Catch 'em about next year! Sagersgrove is
where we were going to get right behind 'em on the old pike!"
"A few miles west, then on the first thing that looks like a road, due
north, and we'll come to the pike," suggested Fred, more pleasantly. "We
can't help but recognize it, and the paper said Way's crowd took that
route. Keep a-going. If we don't stop for noon we won't have lost much
time, after all."
The still frightened travelers reached their looked-for road to the west
a mile further on. Often they had looked back, but now they paused and
scrutinized carefully the distant horizon in the direction they had
come.
An old black horse and buckboard and a small boy in charge of that
conveyance, which they had passed a few minutes before, were the only
objects in sight along the dusty, sunny road. Over in the pasture on the
right, some cows were feeding. In the wood lot on the left silence
reigned save for the vagrant breeze faintly rustling the leaves. From a
farmyard further down the road came indistinctly the cackling of a hen
in token of a new laid egg added to the world's food supply; but for
aught else within view or hearing the three lads might have been the
sole inhabitants of the country.
The general influence of the calm and quiet scene was beneficial to the
excited minds of Mr. Gouger's erstwhile prisoners. At a far more
moderate speed than they had lately traveled they now went forward
again, taking the road to the west. It pitched down a remarkably long,
stony hill, then crossed a broad valley. And as by following this route
the Trio escaped the necessity of taking a round-about way on the north
side of Sagersgrove, as the Auto Boys had done, to pass the streets torn
up for improvements, they really fared better than they thought.
Particularly was this true when, by mid-afternoon, they found themselves
on the hard, level surface of the old State pike, quite as Freddy Perth
had planned. What difficulties they escaped by missing the northern
route the Auto Boys used, and what danger of straying into the Cowslip
marshes they thus avoided, the travelers never discovered.
The fever of excitement accompanying their flight from the stable had
quite subsided as Fred and Pickton exchanged places, the former taking
the wheel preparatory to a long, steady run over the fine old pike.
Three objects were now kept constantly in view. One, to leave
Sagersgrove as far behind as possible before nightfall; another, to
discover a store or restaurant where provisions for a picnic supper
might be purchased, and the third to gain, if possible, certain
information as to whether the Auto Boys had passed that way. A camping
place for the night was a fourth but much later consideration, for it
had been decided to keep the car in motion until a late hour.
Years ago one would have found plenty of opportunities to purchase
either food or lodging along the still famous old road the boys were
traveling. At nearly every four corners was a tavern or some house whose
hospitality might be enjoyed for a moderate price. Frequent hamlets and
villages marked the way, also, and there quite elaborate entertainment
might be obtained at the inns. Very different did the Trio find the
situation, however--as different, almost, as the contrast between their
own conveyance and the stage coaches of old.
In one small settlement after another did either Perth or Pickton leave
the car to inquire for the provisions they wanted, but beyond crackers,
cheese and sometimes dry, hard cakes or cookies the general country
stores offered them, they found nothing.
"We would have brought some proper stuff to eat along if you two hadn't
been in such a frothy hurry!" growled Soapy Gaines, and as he spoke he
was busily consuming the last of a dozen bananas Fred had brought from
home.
But Mr. Gaines was not much given to self-denial or to a considerate
manner at any time. He had set his heart on cold ham or chicken, iced
tea and salad for his supper. The prospect of feasting on crackers and
cheese did not strike him at all favorably, hungry as he was. Being
pretty tired and having the mortification of his ridiculous plunge into
the decayed pumpkin still in his mind, as well, it may be said that he
was not the most agreeable of traveling companions.
And indeed, his mood showed little improvement as time passed. How much
of his more than usual ill-temper might be attributed to the humiliating
plunge from Eli Gouger's stable window, would be difficult to determine.
No doubt he thought much of it and so grew all the more irritable,
instead of passing the whole matter off with a laugh and then forgetting
it, as any sensible young fellow would have done.
But Gaines had not gathered in environment or training even a moderate
degree of good, sound sense. Perhaps he was not alone at fault, yet
right here it may be said that, clear through to the wretched and
unfortunate end of his connection with the present enterprise, he
maintained quite constantly an air either of bullying and grumbling or
utterly selfish indolence and indifference.
Freddy Perth and Pickton, as well, for that matter, were quite willing
to make a supper of such simple provisions as they could obtain at the
general stores, with the possible addition of milk, and maybe a pie or
fresh bread and butter from some farmhouse. But no extent of "soap," as
Perth called the wheedling talk and flattery Pick administered to
Gaines, would make that young gentleman agree. It was quite dark,
therefore, ere a town affording even moderately good hotel
accommodations was reached. There a stop for supper was made. Even then
Soapy found the iced tea and the salad not at all to his taste, but ate
hugely of the plainer fare.
A more important development of the hour spent in the hotel was the
certain knowledge gained that four lads in a heavily-laden touring car
had stopped to purchase some newspapers a couple of days earlier. The
news-stand clerk supplied this information quite frankly when asked if
such tourists had been noticed passing through. He added that there
would be many touring parties on the roads during the next week or more,
going to the Gold Cup races.
So certain was he in his own mind, indeed, that the boys before him were
bound for the big stock car contests (as he likewise had no doubt the
four earlier travelers had been) that unconsciously he overstepped the
truth in the report he gave. The young men who had passed on in advance
had _told_ him, he said, that they were _going_ to the races. He
_thought_ they had stated that they would stay in Queensville.
"Sure thing!" exclaimed Freddy Perth as the information gleaned was
discussed while the Roadster forged steadily forward again, a little
later. "Sure thing!" said he. "I didn't think there was much to that
'three stones piled one on top of another,' unless just marking the
place they are to have beside the race course. They'll go straight to
Queensville. If we keep going late to-night, we can be there by
to-morrow night ourselves."
Again Gaines gave it as his opinion that the Auto Boys had some business
venture, as well as the races in view. Again Pickton kept to himself his
thoughts on this subject--thoughts that were far from loyal to his
companions. Maybe it would have been better had he mentioned them. Maybe
it would have been better had he changed the plan that, in his heart, he
knew he had formulated even before this journey was fairly started.
It was a warm June night. Fireflies flashed and vanished in constant
succession over the field and along the roadsides. In the frequent
farmhouses the lights shone pleasantly through open doors and windows.
And always the gas lamps of the Roadster showed ahead a clear, smooth
course. The car was leaving the miles steadily behind. Under the
influence of the calm surroundings and the automobile's easy motion,
Soapy fell asleep. He had turned partially upon his side and rested his
head upon his arm thrown over the back of the bucket seat.
"We'll make camp when we find a good place," said Perth, at the wheel,
over his shoulder to Pickton, "Gaines is dead to the world."
"Blessed good thing! He'd insist on a feather bed or something, if he
wasn't," the person addressed made answer. "Don't know that I relish the
idea of sleeping out very much myself; but gee whiz! I haven't got the
price to hunt up hotels every time we want a meal or a bed, and neither
have you. And you take it from me, Soapy will want to borrow some money
from one of us before the week is over. I'll not give him a picayune!"
"Humph!" Perth responded, and that was all he did say. He didn't fancy
the change in Pickton's words and tone, now that Gaines would not hear.
But later he did add:
"It's camp out or nothing for me. That is what we planned to do and if
we don't find a place where we can do what cooking we have to do, I'll
get a room somewhere and pick up meals as best I can. Then if I run out
of money I'm going to get a job at something or another till the races
come off. Might as well see them, while we're there. Our chasing Phil
Way and his bunch isn't going to amount to anything anyway--nothing more
than that they won't be able to say they saw the Gold Cup and we
didn't."
"You stick to me, Fred. We'll make Gaines do as we all agreed. We are
going to find Worth and Way and those fellows and we're going to have
some fun with 'em. We can rough it just as well as they can and if
Gaines don't like it--"
"Oh, fiddle! You dream miracles and talk wonders! And it stops there,"
Perth exclaimed, but only half seriously. Then, "What you say is all
right, Pick, but you won't stand by it."
"By the old bean porridge pot, Perth! You're the most contrary monkey I
ever saw!" was Pickton's ejaculation. "I'll stand by every word I've
said!"
But whether he did or whether he didn't subsequent chapters will show.
For the present it is essential to state that beside a thick hedge,
where the ground was level and the grass deep--and very wet with dew, in
consequence--a camping place was found. Not one of the Auto Boys would
have chosen such a spot. There was no water near, no trees beneath which
the ground would be comparatively dry. The thorns of the hedge, also,
where dead branches had fallen, might be encountered just when one least
expected them.
No, Billy Worth or Phil, Paul or Dave would not have picked this place
even in the dark. Pickton and Perth would not have done so either, had
they possessed half the knowledge and experience the Auto Boys had
gained in matters of this kind.
It was eleven o'clock by Freddy Perth's watch. For an hour or more the
night air had felt quite cool, in the automobile, and thoughts of warm
blankets and sleep were pleasant ones as camp was established at the
point described, despite the objectionable features named.
Far back in Sagersgrove the town clock was striking the hour. Eli Gouger
turned restlessly in his sleep and half awakened. "Might have had two,
or maybe four dollars apiece out of 'em just as well as not, if that
good-for-nothing Petersby hadn't had to get his dinner 'fore coming with
me," he growled, as indeed he had been growling for some time. "Get his
dinner! The blamed calf! He's a great one to be a constable, he is!"