ON THE TRAIL
The Curlytops, and Trouble also, were so much taken up with watching
the moving picture people leave the meadow that for a time they did not
listen to what their father and mother were talking about. But at last
Jan heard something said about the Cardwell albums and asked:
“Did we lose them out of our car?”
“No; we had them when we parked here,” answered her father. “I remember
putting the box under a robe, so it wouldn’t be in plain sight. It
could be mistaken for a fancy box of lunch, I thought, and some hungry
boys, thinking it contained sandwiches, might be tempted to take it.”
“Did they?” asked Ted.
“Some one has taken the box with the albums in it,” answered Mr.
Martin. “It’s gone!”
“Let’s look again, to make certain,” suggested his wife. “We don’t want
to make a fuss and then find the box, after all.”
“I don’t believe we’ll find it,” replied Mr. Martin, and there was a
worried look on his face. “It isn’t in the car--it’s been taken out.
And what to say to Mr. Cardwell I don’t know! He will be very sorry to
learn that the albums are gone, for he never again can get pictures of
his twin girls who are dead. And that sailor boy’s picture, too! That’s
gone.”
“Oh, perhaps we’ll find the box and the albums,” said Mrs. Martin more
cheerfully. “No one would really steal them--they would be of no value
to any one.”
“No; and that’s what I can’t understand!” complained the father of the
Curlytops. “But the albums are gone, sure enough!”
It really seemed so, for when the children--even Trouble helping--had
looked through the car, the box was not to be found.
“Well, I don’t know what to do,” said Mr. Martin, walking up and down
with a worried air, beside his auto. “I don’t want to go back and tell
Mr. Cardwell we have lost his valuable relics. And yet it isn’t fair
to him not to let him know.”
“Maybe he came here himself and got them,” suggested Ted.
“What do you mean, Son?” asked his father.
“I mean that maybe after he gave them to you he found out he was going
to Bentville himself, and he came here to tell you. He didn’t see us,
because we were looking at the cowboys, and he just took the box out of
our car.”
“He wouldn’t do that without telling me,” said Mr. Martin. “No,
something else happened. I wish I knew what. I’d like to get those
albums back.”
While Mr. Martin was still nervously pacing up and down beside his auto
and Mrs. Martin was making another search among the robes and valises
for the box, one of the cowboys who had taken part in the moving
picture rode past. Ted and Janet looked at him with eager eyes, for he
was a hero to them.
Seeing the children, the actor smiled, and then, noticing that
something was wrong, he stopped his horse, removed his big,
broad-brimmed hat in a bow to Mrs. Martin and asked:
“Is anything wrong? Can I help you? Did some of our people bump into
your car? I know that sometimes happens when a crowd gathers as we are
taking films.”
“No, nothing like that happened,” answered Mr. Martin. “But I left a
box with some valuable books in it here in my car, and now the box is
gone. I suppose some one in the crowd thought it contained food and
made off with it. I wish they’d bring it back, for the books are of no
value except as keepsakes to a family in Bentville where we are going.”
“What sort of box was it?” asked the cowboy, one of the last of the
moving picture actors to leave the green meadow near the white bridge.
“It was a dark red wooden box, with inlaid pieces of light wood,” Mr.
Martin explained. “It had a brass handle to carry it by. It was a box I
used to keep my papers in at my store. But I had put these books in it
for safety. I might better have left them out.”
“Was it a box about so long?” asked the cowboy, holding his hands out
about two feet apart.
“Yes,” answered Mr. Martin.
“Then I know where it is!” exclaimed the cowboy.
“You do?” cried Mr. and Mrs. Martin together, while the Curlytops gazed
at the rider with eager eyes. As for Trouble, he was gazing at the
horse and murmuring:
“You aren’t as big as a nellifunt! I fed a nellifunt peanuts once, I
did!”
“Yes, I know where your box is; or at least, I know who took it,” went
on the actor. “It was all due to a mistake.”
“Who has it?” asked Mrs. Martin.
“I think you will find it in the car of Mr. Harry Portnay, our head
actor, or leading man, as we call it,” replied the cowboy, with a smile.
“What would he be doing with old photograph albums?” asked Mr. Martin.
“For those are the books in the box--just old photograph albums, though
they contain pictures highly valued by those who own them.”
“Mr. Portnay didn’t want the albums,” said the actor, who gave his
name as Ned Weldon. “But his helper, Jim Lewis, took them to him by
mistake. Lewis thought your box was Mr. Portnay’s make-up box.”
“Make-up box? Do you mean the box with false mustaches and grease paint
and things like that in it?” asked Mrs. Martin.
“Yes,” answered the cowboy. Later Mrs. Martin explained to the
Curlytops that actors when they “dress up” as different characters must
also change their faces as well as their clothes. They must sometimes
put on powder and paint, as well as false hair and beards. And each
actor has what is called a “make-up box,” consisting of many things
which enable him to make himself up to look like some one else.
“This is how it happened,” went on Mr. Weldon. “Your car was parked
next to that of Mr. Portnay. I remember seeing that as I rode about
taking part in the picture. He has the same make and model car that you
have.
“During the cowboy race Mr. Portnay happened to want something from his
make-up box. I heard him tell Lewis to go and get it. I was sitting
on my horse near Mr. Portnay when Lewis came back with a box such as
you describe. At first it looked a good bit like Mr. Portnay’s make-up
chest, but our leading man knew right away that it wasn’t.
“Lewis, by mistake, had gone to your car and taken your box of albums
in place of Portnay’s make-up box. Portnay laughed at the mistake, and
sent Lewis back to get the right box.
“Now, in all probability, what happened was this. Instead of putting
the box of albums back in your car, Lewis put it in Mr. Portnay’s car
and also took from that car the make-up box. He left your box in Mr.
Portnay’s car and now our leading man has gone away with it. That’s
what happened to your albums, I feel sure. No one took them purposely.”
“Yes, it must have happened as you say,” agreed Mr. Martin. “I’m glad
to learn the books weren’t stolen.”
“But how can we get them back?” asked Mrs. Martin.
“The albums aren’t ours--we are carrying them for a neighbor, Mr. James
Cardwell,” explained Janet primly.
“Yes, that’s it,” said the little Curlytop girl’s father.
The cowboy actor looked at his watch and seemed to be trying to
calculate something in his mind.
“We’re to take more scenes on location, as we call it, to-morrow,” he
said.
“Do you mean here?” asked Mr. Martin. “We planned to go on, but if it
means getting back the albums we can stay.”
“No, not here,” answered Mr. Weldon. “Our next scenes will be taken at
Cub Mountain, about fifty miles from here.”
“I know where Cub Mountain is,” said Mr. Martin. “I’ve been there,
but I didn’t intend visiting it on this tour. You see, we are touring
around for our summer vacation,” he added.
“I see,” remarked Ned Weldon. “Well, Mr. Portnay and the rest of the
company, or at least most of us, will be at Cub Mountain this time
to-morrow, or a little earlier. We are taking scenes about a log cabin
on the mountain. If you are there you can very likely see Mr. Portnay
and get back from him your box which his man took in mistake for the
make-up chest.”
“Couldn’t we catch Mr. Portnay before then?” asked Mr. Martin. “I mean,
couldn’t we trail after him now and come up with him somewhere before
he reaches Cub Mountain?”
“You might try,” said the man who played the part of a cowboy. “He is
going through Midvale, which is about halfway there. Probably he’ll
stop in Midvale all night. He’ll be very sorry this has happened, and
he’ll be glad to give you back your box.”
“Thank you,” replied Mr. Martin. “Then I think the best thing for us
to do is to take the trail after this Mr. Portnay. I can get back
the albums without having to worry Mr. Cardwell about them. Come on,
children!”
“Yes, I’s comin’,” murmured Trouble.
Into the auto scrambled the Curlytops and Trouble. Mrs. Martin took her
place beside her husband, and, waving a farewell to the cowboy actor,
they started on the trail of Mr. Portnay.
The green meadow by the white bridge was now almost deserted. The
curious ones from the city of Cresco had left, and so had the moving
picture people, with the exception of the actor who had solved the
mystery of the disappearance of the albums.
“Well, we are having rather an exciting start of our tour,” laughed
Mrs. Martin, as the auto rolled along the smooth road. “First we meet
these interesting moving picture people, and then we have to chase
after them. It’s very exciting.”
“It’s lots of fun!” laughed Janet.
“I hope we see some more cowboy races,” remarked Ted.
They rode on for several miles, and as they went slowly around a bend
in the road, Trouble called out:
“Look! Look! Look at the monkey!”