THE DESERTED HOUSE
Tom Swift, ever on the alert when driving any of his machines, from
the humble motorcycle to the more complicated apparatuses of the air
or undersea, lived up to his name in bringing the House on Wheels to
a quick but skillful stop as Ned Newton uttered the exclamation of
warning.
It was just in time, for the front wheels were almost against a big
rotten tree that the gale had blown down across the highway leading
toward Dismal Mountain. Tom's attention had been taken momentarily by
some of his dashboard gages, so he had not seen the sway of the tree
before it fell. But Ned's quick eyes had sensed the danger and had
given ample warning.
"Close call, that!" commented Tom, as he leaned back after pulling hard
on the emergency brake.
"Don't want 'em any closer," agreed Ned, as he looked through the
driving rain at the fallen tree. "If we had gone full tilt into that it
might have scratched some of the paint off the House."
"Worse than that," assented Tom. "It's lucky you yelled at me when you
did."
"Well, what's the next move?" asked Ned.
"Put on our umbrella clothes and see if we can cut that tree away,"
suggested Tom. "I don't believe we can very well turn around and I
don't want to navigate backward."
"No, it won't be easy," agreed Ned. "Well, let's hop to it. I don't
believe there's much traffic on this road, but what there is we don't
want to hold up."
"Speaking of hold-ups," said Tom grimly, "maybe we could get some of
the hold-up residents of Dismal Mountain to come to our help."
"They don't show up in any great numbers," remarked Ned, as he made his
way back into the interior of the car to get his raincoat and rubber
boots, which Tom had designated as "umbrella clothes."
They were in a lonely part of the country, in the midst of an extensive
piece of woods, it appeared, on a seldom-traveled road, about at the
beginning of the big peak known as Dismal Mountain. They had seen no
habitation for some time, nor had they met any other travelers, which
last was not remarkable, considering the state of the weather.
Tom carried a set of emergency tools in his House on Wheels and among
these were a couple of axes. In a short time he and Ned, fortified
against the elements, which appeared to be doing their worst just now,
were attacking the fallen tree with their sharp tools.
Fortunately the tree was pretty well rotted, and though it was large in
diameter, the trunk was punk-like in its character and the axes easily
bit into it. Chopping out small sections, the two travelers dragged
them to one side of the road until at last, after an hour's work, they
had cleared a passage for their auto and for any other vehicles that
might follow.
"Though if there are any other people foolish enough to drive up here
in a storm like this, they ought to be made to chop their own trees,"
commented Tom, as he got back on the seat.
"It wasn't so bad when we started up here," Ned reminded his chum.
"Oh, I'm not kicking!" Tom made haste to say. "I'm just talking to hear
my own voice. Whew, it's going to be a nasty night!"
"It already is one!" declared Ned, for darkness was rapidly falling and
they had no idea of what lay beyond them.
"Want to stay here?" asked Tom, always willing to give in on the
matter of stopping for the night.
"No, the road's too narrow in case anything else comes along, though
I don't believe it will. Let's push on, and maybe we'll get to some
decent place where we can pull up."
The motor, which had been stopped while the fallen tree was being
chopped away, was again put in motion and once more the House on Wheels
began the gradual but steady ascent that led up Dismal Mountain, by
this time in the young men's minds, a veritable mountain of mystery.
For about a mile the road was fairly good and firm. After that either
the highway had not been kept in repair or the heavy rain was washing
it away rapidly, for the House on Wheels careened from one rut into
another until it was swaying like a circus camel in the parade.
"Not so good!" commented Ned, as he banged up against the side of the
seat after a particularly heavy lurch.
"It is getting a bit thick and heavy," agreed Tom, trying to peer ahead
into the gloom which was pierced by two powerful headlights of the
auto. But powerful as they were, the gleams of the lamps appeared to be
swallowed up in the dark trees on either side of the road and by the
surface of the highway itself.
A comparatively light surface is needed to reflect the gleams of any
auto lamps properly, as you have noticed when driving first on concrete
and then on asphalt. You can see twice as well on the former as on the
latter. And in driving through woods on a dirt road, nearly all the
illumination is absorbed so that you get the benefit of very little of
it.
It was so in the case of Tom and Ned, and though for a little way in
front of the wheels they could see where they were going, beyond ten
feet all was gloom and darkness.
It was still raining hard and the wind was blowing. Tom had set in
motion the wiper of the glass in front of him so the drops did not
accumulate and distort his vision. But he needed all the artificial
aids he could command on a night like this and under the circumstances.
For the first time it began to be apparent to him and Ned that perhaps
they had done rather a foolish thing to come to Dismal Mountain in
this large van-like car. It was not exactly the kind of a machine
for prospect work, not being small or flexible enough for quick
maneuvering.
On the other hand, it was a portable base of supplies and the occupants
of it could stop wherever they found themselves and be comfortable,
which was more than could be said for a small car. So they kept
plugging along.
The motor was pulling powerfully. Tom was glad of this for he knew he
would need all the power he could command when they got into the upper
slopes where the grades would be stiffer.
On and on, up and up, the House on Wheels was driven until Ned began to
wonder where his chum would stop. He did not like to suggest a halt,
for there seemed to be no good place to pull up. The road was still
narrow. The House took up considerable room and there were places where
trees grew so close to each side of the road that it seemed impossible
to squeeze the big vehicle through.
But, somehow, Tom managed it, though once both sides of the car lightly
brushed great trunks that would have taken hours on the part of a
skilled lumberman to fell. However, luck was with the two venturesome
travelers.
After a stiff ascent, in which Tom had to drop back to second gear for
one of the few times since the trip started, they came to a somewhat
level stretch, as was evidenced by the easier pull on the motor. Ned,
always enthusiastic, exclaimed:
"Hurray! We're up!"
"Not half!" exclaimed Tom. "Don't fool yourself."
"Oh, gee!" sighed Ned.
"But we may reach a place where it will be wise to stop for the rest of
the night," went on Tom, trying in vain to pierce the dark forest ahead
and on either side. "The road is wider here and we can pull off it with
a chance for something else to pass."
"Nobody but us two are crazy enough to be out here on a night like
this," commented the financial manager.
"Guess that's about right," assented Tom. "Still, it's best not to take
any chances. I'll go along a bit farther and then we'll pull up and
call it a day's work."
The going was better until there was a sudden lurch to one side.
"In a hole!" cried Tom, and he quickly went into second and then into
first gear in an effort to pull out.
However, it was not to be. The House on Wheels slowly settled down and
not all the power of the motor could stir it. Finally Tom realized that
he was only sinking the rear wheels deeper into the mud by churning
them around.
"We've got to dig out!" he told Ned.
There was no help for it. Once more they donned boots and raincoats
and, hanging a portable electric light over the bogged side, they saw
where the right front wheel had sunk into a deep hole. It took the two
the best part of an hour to dig a slope in front and fill it with small
stones to make a firm surface so the machine could climb out. This the
auto did after several false starts, and once more they were on their
way.
The road shortly broadened and the trees were cut back from the highway
into a small clearing. This opening enabled the two to see better,
and in the gleam of the powerful lamps Ned noticed, just ahead, on
the right, a big house, from which, however, no lights showed. As the
car approached, it could be seen that the place was an old, deserted
mansion that had once been the stately home of some wealthy person, for
there were extensive grounds.
"Look!" exclaimed Ned.
"I see it," answered Tom. "Nobody home from the looks of it, but we can
pull up there and stop for the night. What say?"
"Suits me!"
Accordingly, Tom guided the big car into what seemed to have once been
a drive and he and Ned both experienced a feeling of relief. But if
they had known to what adventures the deserted house was a preface they
might well have hesitated.
"What do you make it out to be?" joked Ned, as the House on Wheels was
brought to a stop at one side of the old mansion. "Is it a hang-out of
bootleggers or road agents?"
"Take your choice," Tom answered, in equally light vein. "Luckily, we
don't have to depend on them for supper. We roll our own."
"And I'm going to roll mine right soon!" added Ned. "Boy, I'm hungry
and I don't mean perhaps!"
"Be with you in just a minute," Tom said, shutting off the motor and
putting on the emergency brake. He was glad to note that the ground
seemed firm beneath the wheels.
As he and Ned were alighting, thinking to have a look around the
outside of the deserted house before getting something to eat, Ned
uttered a low exclamation which Tom heard above the noise of the rain
that was coming down more gently now.
"What is it?" whispered the young inventor.
"Did you hear a noise in there?" asked Ned in cautious tones.