THE MYSTERY OF THE MINER.
"He's gone!" exclaimed Ned.
"Are you sure he was here?" inquired the physician.
Of that the boys had not the slightest doubt, and they speedily
convinced the medical man. The lantern was flashed in every corner of
the hut, but there was not a sign of the miner.
"It's rather queer," commented Dr. Morrison, when he had listened to the
details the boys gave him.
"Do you suppose some one came and carried him off?" asked Bob.
"More likely he was not as badly hurt as you supposed," replied Dr.
Morrison. "He may have been only stunned by a blow on the head. When he
regained his senses he probably feared another attack, and so he hurried
from the hut. Let me take the lamp."
The physician flashed the lantern outside the door of the cabin, holding
it close to the ground.
"I thought so," he said. "See, there are a few grains of the gold-dust
showing on the door sill, and here are more, farther along the path. The
man has gone away, and has left a little golden trail."
The physician attempted to follow it, but the yellow specks soon
disappeared and there was no other clew.
"Depend on it, he has run away in fear," said the doctor. "Rather
disappointing, too. I believe he could tell a queer story. Who robbed
him, I wonder?"
"It was----" began Bob, but a nudge from Jerry stopped him.
"We saw some one run from the hut," explained Jerry. "We gave chase in
the automobile, but the fellow cut across lots and we couldn't follow."
"I suppose I may as well go back," announced the doctor. "There is no
use staying here. I don't believe the miner will return and solve the
mystery for us."
The auto was turned toward Cresville and a quick trip was made, the boys
speculating among themselves on what might be revealed if the wounded
man could be found.
The physician was left at his home, and then the boys began thinking of
their beds, as it was growing late.
"Queer that both Noddy and Jack should turn thieves, isn't it?" remarked
Jerry.
"And that we should happen to be mixed up in both cases," put in Ned. "I
wonder if we will meet either of them again."
If the boys could have looked into the future they would have seen that
they were destined to soon encounter Noddy and Jack, and under the
strangest of circumstances.
The auto was put away and three tired boys were soon snoring in their
beds. They were up bright and early the next morning and in consultation
about the proposed trip to Chicago. They called on Mr. Wakefield to
learn his plans.
He said he expected to start for the Windy City by way of New York,
on Thursday. It was then Tuesday, and the boys realized that they had
little time to spare in which to make their preparations.
The three parents, who had somewhat reluctantly given their consent to
the project, were soon almost as enthusiastic as the boys. Stocks of
clothing were looked over, money matters were arranged, and the boys
packed their dress-suit cases with what they thought would do them on
the trip. They were each given a fairly liberal allowance of funds.
Then the automobile was got ready. It was given a thorough overhauling,
and an extra supply of tools, together with a full new set of tires, was
provided. Andy Rush was told to prepare to go, it having been decided
to take him as far as New York or Chicago, he having relatives in both
cities.
At last the time came to start. It was a fine, crisp September morning,
and the boys were up early enough to see the sun rise. The suit-cases
had been strapped to the machine, tires were pumped up, there was plenty
of water and gasolene in the tanks, the batteries were renewed, and
every bit of machinery had been gone over carefully. Andy Rush, the
night previous, had sent his things over to Bob's house, from whence the
trip was to be begun. Andy himself arrived right after breakfast.
"Hurrah!" he shouted. "Here we go--all aboard--blow the horn--get out
of the way--turn on the gasolene--off brakes--break the records--mile a
minute--whoop!"
"You'll have all the excitement you want for once, I hope, Andy," said
Jerry.
"Betcherlife!" exclaimed Andy, in one breath.
The boys piled into the auto; good-byes were called, over and over
again. Then came a toot of a horn as Mr. Wakefield came up the road in
his machine, a friend, who intended making the trip, accompanying him.
"All ready, boys?" he called.
"All ready!" replied Jerry, who was going to steer for the first stage.
With a blaring of the automobile trumpets, a waving of hands from those
who had gathered to see the start, and a chorus of cries, wishing every
one good luck, the little party rode away.
Mr. Wakefield, who knew the road better than did the boys, took the
lead. His car was of the same pattern as theirs and both machines were
of equal speed. For several miles the two autos puffed along over the
pleasant country roads.
No attempt to make time was tried, and at noon the travelers found
themselves in Providence, Rhode Island, that being the first stopping
place Mr. Wakefield had decided on. The machines were run up in front
of a quiet but good hotel, and every one was hungry enough to do full
justice to the meal.
"How do you boys like it?" asked Mr. Wakefield at the table. "Do you
think you can stand it as far as Chicago?"
They were all sure they could run the machine to San Francisco, if
necessary, and Mr. Wakefield and his friend laughed at their enthusiasm.
"We have come about seventy miles without a mishap," said Mr. Wakefield,
"but there are many miles ahead of us yet."
After a short rest the journey was again taken up, and throughout the
afternoon the autos were speeded along. The way was through a pleasant
country, and the boys enjoyed the scenery and fresh air. Several times
they stopped at farmhouses to get drinks of cold milk, and once a
motherly-looking woman filled the boys' pockets with newly baked
doughnuts that were delicious.
"We'll spend the night in Norwich, Conn.," said Mr. Wakefield, when the
two autos were ready to start, after a momentary stop at a farmhouse.
"Norwich--Norwich! I know Norwich!" exclaimed Andy. "I saw it in a
book once--years ago--I was a little fellow--man in the moon came down
too soon to inquire the way to Norwich--went by the south--burnt his
mouth--eating cold bean porridge!"
"You remember your nursery rhymes well," said Mr. Wakefield, with a
laugh, in which all joined.
On and on chugged the autos. The afternoon waned to dusk and frequent
signboards told that the distance from Norwich was constantly lessening.
Mr. Wakefield was about half a mile in advance, on a straight, level
road. Suddenly came a sound as of a pistol shot.
"Tire busted!" exclaimed Jerry, shutting off the power. Mr. Wakefield
heard the noise and turned back.
"Accident?" he inquired.
Jerry explained that one of their inner tubes had blown out.
"Want any help?" asked the athletic instructor.
"We may as well begin now as any other time to mend our own breaks,"
spoke Jerry. "You go ahead. We'll catch up to you soon."
"All right," said Mr. Wakefield. He felt that it would be a good thing
to accustom the boys to depend on themselves. So, telling them that the
road to Norwich was now a straight one, and that the town was about ten
miles off, he left them to their own devices.
The boys started in on the not very easy task of taking off the heavy
outer shoe and inserting a new inner tube, of which they carried a
supply. It finally became so dark that they had to light the lamps to
see to work. At length they were finished and the tools were put away.
The new tire was pumped up and the engine started. The boys took their
seats, and, at Bob's request, he was allowed to steer.
"Go slow at first," advised Jerry, "until we see how the new tube holds."
Bob started off at first speed. It was now quite dark, but the oil and
acetylene lamps gave a good light. All at once Bob, who was peering
ahead, shut off the power with a jerk and put the brakes on hard.
"What's the matter?" asked Jerry.
"Something in the road," replied the steersman, pointing to a dark
object.
The next instant three figures loomed up in the glare of the auto lamps.
"Climb out of that gasolene gig!" exclaimed a rough voice. "We're hard
up an' we need help!"