ON THE WAY EAST
“Well, boys, I certainly wish you luck.”
It was John Hixon who spoke, as he shook hands with Dave and Roger at
the railroad station on the following morning.
As arranged, the party of three had had an early breakfast and had lost
no time in riding over to the railroad station. They had found the train
half an hour late, and Dave had lost no time in sending a telegram to
Crumville stating that he and Roger were on the way, and asking that if
there was anything of importance to communicate, to send them word
either at St. Paul or Chicago.
The two youths had no accommodations on the train, which was made up of
sleeping-cars, an observation-car and a diner. They had made up their
minds that they would journey on the train even if they had to sit up in
a smoking compartment. But the cars proved to be less than
three-quarters filled, and they had but little trouble in obtaining a
section. Then they settled down as best they could for the long journey
to Chicago, where, of course, they would have to change for the train to
the East. They paid for their passage only as far as St. Paul, so that
they might leave the train at that city if a telegram was received
assuring them that everything was all right.
“But I’m afraid we won’t have any such luck, Roger,” observed Dave, in
speaking of this possibility.
“You can’t tell,” answered the senator’s son hopefully. “It’s just
possible that Laura and Jessie may have returned home and explained
their disappearance.”
“They’d never stay away so long without sending some word, I’m certain
of that,” answered our hero emphatically. “They are not that kind of
girls.”
“It certainly would seem so, Dave. But you must remember they may have
sent some kind of word, and it may not have been received. They may have
met some friends, sent a message, and gone off on an automobile tour or
a motor-boat voyage.”
Dave shook his head. “It won’t do, Roger. I know Laura and Jessie too
well. They would want to make sure that the folks at home knew where
they were. And they would send us word too. Besides that, they wouldn’t
go off on any extended trip, such as you mention, unless they had
permission from my father and Mrs. Wadsworth.”
All through the morning the two young civil engineers discussed the
situation from every possible angle, but without arriving at any
satisfactory conclusion. At noon they partook of lunch in the
dining-car, making this repast last as long as possible, “just to kill
time,” as Roger expressed it.
“It’s going to be a long-winded trip,” sighed the senator’s son, after
they had finished their meal and had walked back to the end of the
observation car.
“Well, we’ve got to make the best of it, Roger,” was Dave’s reply.
“Ordinarily such a trip as this would be fine. Think of what grand
scenery there is to look at!” and he pointed out with a sweep of his
hand.
The long train rumbled onward hour after hour, and the two youths passed
the time as best they could, talking, looking at the scenery, and
reading the various papers and magazines contained in the car library.
At seven o’clock they had dinner, and then sat outside once again until
it grew so dark that nothing could be seen.
“Well, we might as well go to bed,” remarked Dave finally. “Which berth
do you want, Roger—the upper or the lower?”
“It is immaterial to me, Dave,” was the answer. “To tell the truth, I
don’t think I’m going to do much sleeping.”
“We’ll toss up for it,” was the answer. And the toss of the coin gave
Dave the lower berth.
It proved to be a long, wearisome night for both of them. Dave tumbled
and tossed on his pillow, trying in a hundred ways to account for the
mysterious disappearance of his sister and Jessie. Were they captives of
the gypsies? Or had some other dreadful fate overtaken them? Then, at a
sudden thought, Dave sat up in his berth so quickly that he hit his head
on the bottom of the berth above.
“I wonder if it’s possible,” he murmured to himself.
He had suddenly remembered how he had lost the two letters from home at
the time he had been robbed by Nick Jasniff of the contents of his
pocketbook. If Jasniff had read those letters he had learned much about
the trouble in Crumville with the gypsies, and he had also learned from
Jessie’s letter that she and Laura were contemplating a trip to Boston.
“Jasniff is bitter against Mr. Wadsworth for having had him sent to
prison,” Dave reasoned; “and he is equally bitter against me and my
family for what I did in capturing him. He took a train for the East.
Can it be possible that he is mixed up in this affair?”
This thought sent Dave off on a new chain of reasoning, and he became so
restless that, instead of trying to go to sleep, he pulled up the shade
of one of the windows, propped his pillow close against the glass, and
lay there thinking and looking out on the star-lit landscape. But at
last tired nature asserted itself, and he fell into a fitful doze, from
which he did not awaken until it was about time to get up.
“I’ve got a new idea,” he announced to his chum, after the two had
washed and dressed and were on their way to the dining-car for
breakfast. And thereupon he related his suspicions against Jasniff.
“It may be so,” mused the senator’s son. “It would be just like that
rascal to go in with those gypsies and try to do your folks and the
Wadsworths harm.”
On the train the two young civil engineers met several very agreeable
people, but they were in no frame of mind to make friends just then.
Though they did their best to be pleasant, they were glad enough when
the train, after a stop at Minneapolis, finally rolled into the station
at St. Paul. Here, with only a few minutes to spare, they rushed out to
the telegraph office. There was a message for them, and Dave tore the
envelope open eagerly. One glance at the contents, and his face fell.
“No news of importance,” he announced. “Come on. We’ll have to go on to
Chicago.” And then the journey to the great City of the Lakes was
renewed.
At Chicago another message awaited them. This was a little longer than
the other had been, but gave them scant satisfaction, reading as
follows:
“Strong suspicions against gypsies who have disappeared. Demand for
fifty thousand dollars.
“DUNSTON PORTER.”
“That settles one thing. The girls have been kidnapped,” remarked Roger.
“Yes. And the kidnappers want fifty thousand dollars,” added Dave. He
drew a long breath. “Well, there’s one satisfaction about this, Roger.
We know the two girls must be alive.”
“Yes, Dave. But think of them in the hands of those dirty gypsies!”
“I can hardly bear to think of it, Roger. I wish I had those rascals by
the neck! I think I could willingly shake the life out of them!”
“So could I! But come on, let us see if we can’t get on the next train
bound for Albany. There is no use of our going down to New York City.”
The chums were fortunate in getting two upper berths on a train to leave
in less than an hour. The run to Albany would take less than twenty-four
hours, and there they would be able to change to a local train running
to Crumville.
On the train a surprise awaited them. They ran into two of their old
school chums, Buster Beggs and Sam Day. Both of these lads were fat and
full of fun, and, having been close chums at school, had gone into
business together in the city.
“We’re in the book and stationery line,” announced Buster Beggs, after a
cordial handshaking all around. “We’re doing fine, too. Aren’t we, Sam?
But say, I thought you fellows were learning to be civil engineers and
were away out West.”
“We have been out West,” answered Dave. “But we are going home on a
special errand just now.” And then there was nothing to do but to
acquaint Buster and Sam with what had occurred.
“You don’t mean it!” burst out Buster in excitement. “Why, that reads
like a regular old-fashioned novel!”
“I thought kidnappings like that were a thing of the past,” was Sam
Day’s comment. “I certainly hope you round up those gypsies and rescue
the girls.”
“We’ll do it or else know the reason why,” answered Roger determinedly.
From Buster and Sam the two young civil engineers learned much
concerning a number of their other school chums. In return, they told a
great deal about themselves; and thus the hours passed a little more
quickly than they would otherwise have done. The four former Oak Hall
students dined together, and managed to make an exchange of berths with
some others on the train, so that they were all together in opposite
sections that night.
“We’re certainly getting some touches of old times,” remarked Dave.
“First Phil, Ben, and Shadow, and now you two!”
“I’ll tell you what—we ought to organize that Oak Hall club we once
talked about,” said Buster Beggs. “Then we could hold a reunion once a
year.”
“It certainly would be fine,” answered Roger, his eyes lighting up with
pleasure. “We’ll have to remember that, Dave.” And to this our hero
nodded approval.
Buster and Sam left the train at Utica, while the two young civil
engineers continued on their way to Albany. Here they had a wait of an
hour and a half, and during that time they purchased a couple of
newspapers.
“Hello, here’s an account of the affair now!” cried Roger, pointing to
the top of one of the pages.
There was an account nearly a column long, telling of how a search was
being instituted for the missing girls and how it was supposed that a
demand for money had been made upon Mr. Wadsworth and Mr. Porter. It was
added that neither of the gentlemen would affirm or deny the report.
“That looks to me as if they were warned to keep quiet about the demand
for money,” announced Dave.
“Possibly they were told that if they did not keep quiet something would
happen to the girls,” added Roger. He closed his teeth with a snap. “Oh,
I just wish I had my hands on those rascals!”
“It’s maddening, isn’t it, Roger, to stand around here and not be able
to do anything?” groaned Dave. In his mind’s eye he could picture the
misery endured by Jessie and his sister while they were being held
captives.
At last the train for Crumville came in, and they lost no time in
jumping on board.
“Thank heaven, we are on the last leg of this journey!” breathed Roger,
as they settled down in a seat.
“Right you are, Roger!” answered Dave.
But then their faces grew exceedingly thoughtful. What dire news might
await them at their journey’s end?