ANOTHER SURPRISE
At first the two boys were too amazed to speak. They stared blankly at
the spot where the car had been concealed. It now was nowhere to be seen.
"Is this the place?" exclaimed Hugh, the first to regain his senses.
"I know it is," said Bob. "I ran the car right up under that big birch
tree so that I could surely mark the spot."
"Well!" gasped Hugh, unable to say more.
"What'll we do?" Bob almost sobbed. "Some one has stolen the car, and it
is all my fault. What will father say?"
"You'll have to tell him the circumstances," said Hugh lamely. "I don't
know what else you can do."
"But the car is gone," insisted Bob, his mind unable to grasp any idea
beyond that. "The car is gone."
"Maybe it'll come back," said Hugh. "Stolen cars are often recovered."
He lighted a match and held it close to the ground. There were the
marks made by the tires in the damp earth. There was no doubt that this
was the place.
"Who could have taken it?" demanded Bob.
Both boys were silent and the same thought flashed through their
minds at once.
"One of those men from that old house," said Hugh.
"They must have had sentries posted," said Bob and he glanced about him
nervously. "Probable they watched us leave it here and when we went back
into the woods they took it. Probably they followed us and watched us all
the time too; very likely they're watching us now."
"Let's go home," exclaimed Hugh. "I've had enough of this."
"But the car," protested Bob.
"It's gone, isn't it?" said Hugh. "We can't find it by just standing
around here. The best thing we can do is to hurry back to High Ridge as
fast as we can and report it to police headquarters."
"It's over three miles," said Bob.
"Suppose it is," Hugh exclaimed. "Suppose it was twenty miles: we'd have
to go just the same. We may get a lift on the way."
"Not at this time of night."
"Anyway we'd better start; we may be in danger here."
This latter consideration had great weight with Bob. He realized that
enemies of one kind or another were there, or had been recently, in that
neighborhood and he had no desire to meet them, unarmed as he was. His
judgment also told him that Hugh's suggestion about reporting the loss of
the car to the police was the only feasible one under the circumstances.
"Come on," he urged. "Let's go home."
"Some one may come along and offer us a ride," said Hugh hopefully.
"I'm afraid there won't be many people out at this time of night,"
returned Bob disconsolately. "I wish I knew what had happened to the
car."
They proceeded in silence, glancing about them nervously for fear that
they might be the victims of some further surprise. For a half-mile
they kept to the side of the road, for little as they cared to walk
where the darkness was thickest, they knew they would not be as exposed
there as they would be in the middle of the road. When they reached the
top of the hill, however, they became bolder and ventured out upon the
paved highway.
They walked swiftly, every few yards one or the other of the boys turning
to glance behind them to see if they were followed. The night was clear,
and the stars were shining brilliantly; hardly a breath of air was
stirring. Presently they came within sight of the town, and the sound of
the clock on the town hall striking one came faintly to their ears.
"Whew," said Bob, "it's late."
"I should say so," Hugh agreed, "and I was just thinking of everything we
have done to-day. We've certainly been busy."
"We may be even busier to-morrow."
"Why so?"
"Well, if we go back to that house again, you can't tell what we'll
get into."
"I wonder if we ought to report to the police what we've seen."
"Probably we should," said Bob. "I'd like to go it alone though."
"And so should I. Let's wait a day or two longer anyway."
"I hope it won't be too late then."
"We'll risk it anyway," said Hugh. "Look, here comes an automobile."
"It's going the wrong way for us. Get over on the side of the road."
In the distance appeared the headlights of an automobile rapidly
approaching. The two boys hurried to one side of the road and took up
their positions behind the shelter of some low growing bushes. The car
was traveling fast and as it neared the spot where they were concealed
they could hear the thunder of the cutout. A moment later it roared past
them and disappeared.
"Hugh," exclaimed Bob. "The gray roadster!"
"It was for sure!" said Hugh. "What do you think of that?"
"It was going back to the old house probably."
"I guess it was. Perhaps after all, we should report to the police."
"Wait till after to-morrow," said Bob. "We'll go out in the morning and
take a look around there on our own account."
"We may have to spend to-morrow looking for your car."
"That's true, but let's wait and see what happens anyway."
They continued on their way homeward and soon came within the outskirts
of the town. The houses were darkened and apparently every one was in bed
and asleep. The sound of the boys' footsteps on the pavements echoed
loudly along the still, deserted streets.
"Here's Elm Street," said Hugh. "Let's turn down here; it's on our way
home and we can pass right by that stucco house."
"All right," Bob agreed, and they turned the corner.
"That's the place," whispered Hugh a few moments later.
"There's a light in the third story," said Bob in a low tone.
"Perhaps they're waiting up for that German bomb planter," chuckled
Hugh. "I guess he won't be home to-night."
"Don't joke about it, Hugh. I feel sorry for the man's family."
"So do I, but I don't feel sorry for him."
"I should say not! Anything they do to him won't be half bad enough."
"The snake," muttered Hugh. "I'd like to have one look inside that room
up there though and see what is going on." He glanced up at the lighted
window questioningly. As he did so the shade was thrown up and the
window opened by some man who thrust his head out and looked around. Bob
and Hugh shrank back within the shadow of a nearby tree. They caught
only a fleeting glimpse of the man's face, and saw that it was no one
they knew. He had closely cropped hair and a bristling mustache turned
up at the ends.
"Who do you suppose that was?" whispered Bob a moment later, as the man
they watched withdrew his head and shut the window.
"Never saw him before," said Hugh.
"He looked like a German though. Let's get home before he comes outside
and begins to prowl around."
Walking on the ground so that they would not make any noise they hurried
on. A few moments later they stood in front of the Cooks' house.
"There's a light in your house too," said Hugh. "This and that house on
Elm Street are the only ones where people seem to be awake."
"That's Lena's room," said Bob.
"The cook?"
"Yes."
"She's a German, isn't she?"
"Look here, Hugh," laughed Bob. "You can't make me suspicious about
Lena. She has been our cook ever since I was born. She's the most
faithful and kindhearted woman that ever lived. Why she's practically
one of the family."
"Then what is she doing up there all this time?" demanded Hugh. "Her room
was lighted up when we started out."
"I don't know what she's doing," said Bob. "Reading, maybe. You can't get
me excited about her, and just because some Germans are disloyal you
mustn't think they all are."
"All right," said Hugh. "I'd watch them all though."
"You're crazy," said Bob. "What I want to know is what happened to our
automobile. Tomorrow morning before breakfast you'll see me on my way to
police headquarters to report it. Heinie was going to fix the puncture in
my bicycle to-day and I'll go down on that."
"Will you telephone to me about eight o'clock?"
"I will," said Bob, "and if there's nothing we can do about the
automobile well take our bicycles and ride out to the old deserted
house."
"Good, and now we'd better sneak to bed, for we shan't get much sleep
as it is."
"All right. Good night."
"Good night," said Hugh and turned off down the street.
Bob made his way quietly across the lawn towards the house, glancing up
curiously once or twice at the lighted window in Lena's room. As he
looked the light went out. "Poor old Hugh," he thought. "How silly he is
to be suspicious of Lena." He tiptoed up the steps and across the porch,
let himself in carefully with his latch key, and stole upstairs.
He wished to get into bed without waking any of the family, and was
successful in this, for soon he was snugly under the covers without
having disturbed any one. It was a long time before sleep came to him,
however. He was greatly worried about the loss of the car and he dreaded
having to tell his father about it the next day. Of course his father
would understand, but no one could be blamed for being upset at the loss
of a new automobile, particularly as the result of what might prove to be
a wild goose chase.
Heinrich too would be furious, and Bob expected their chauffeur to knock
on his door at any moment and demand where the automobile was. Heinrich
did not go to bed until the car was safely in the garage, and as a rule
he washed it no matter how late the hour was.
Bob's black eye throbbed somewhat too, his fingers smarted from the burn
of the lighted fuse, and his brain was reeling with the events of the
day. At length, however, he fell asleep and strange to say he slept
dreamlessly. He had taken care to set his alarm-clock for half-past six
and it seemed to him that his eyes had been closed only a very few
minutes when it went off close beside his ear. He clutched it quickly and
stifled the alarm so as not to awaken the rest of the household; a moment
later he had jumped out of bed and was getting into his clothes.
He glanced out of the window and saw that it was light outside. The early
morning sun shone on the bare limbs of the trees and made them glisten.
Here and there a bud could be seen almost ready to burst its shell and
Bob rejoiced to see signs of the coming of spring and summer. He was not
happy, however, for the loss of the car weighed him down and oppressed
him. Even the awakening beauties of nature did not cheer him up and that
was unusual in Bob's case.
A few moments later he was fully dressed except for his shoes. He held
them in one hand, and in his stocking feet slipped out of his room and
stole downstairs. He opened the front door carefully and then sat down on
the steps to put on his shoes. As he busied himself a bicycle passed
along the street in front of the house, and Bob recognized the rider as
Frank Wernberg.
"What's he doing out at this time of day?" muttered Bob angrily. He sat
motionless and as Frank did not look toward the house he decided that he
had not been seen. Bob yawned, rubbed his eyes sleepily, and stretched.
He suddenly recalled the loss of the automobile, and jumping to his feet
started toward the garage.
As he came near he saw that the front door of the garage was open. That
was queer, he thought, as Heinrich never left it open at night. Then he
recalled that he and Hugh had left it open the night before and that
probably Heinrich had left it undisturbed so that they could run in the
car without trouble when they returned. Heinrich had no doubt come in and
gone to sleep, and had not yet discovered that the car was missing.
Imagine Bob's surprise therefore when he turned the corner of the
building and saw the car standing in its accustomed place. Heinrich was
washing it as if nothing in the world had happened.