“THAT CHAFFER FELLOW”
“Ma foi, I hope that monsieur the Colonel finds that scamp,” murmured
Pierre Dufour, for the tenth time. “It was for him that George
run away; and for him that he insult me; and for him that he say
‘fired’--‘fired’ to me. Bah! And what does monsieur the Colonel say?
He say, ‘Pierre, you have done well; I make you my compliments.’ A la
bonne heure.”
And Pierre sank back, and gazed fixedly toward the woods.
Soon the wait became monotonous; and, thinking that beyond the road
might lead toward the river, where he could get a sight of the
house-boat, Pierre gave the starting lever a pull, and the big red
touring car was again in motion.
Gliding slowly ahead, the chauffeur suddenly heard the sound of voices,
and, on looking around, saw several shadowy figures approaching. He
did not need to see their faces in order to know that they were boys.
They seemed to be in high spirits.
In a few moments, the glare from the acetylene lamps revealed a number
of good-natured faces staring into his own.
“Oh, look who’s here!” cried one.
“Good-evening, chaffer,” said another.
“Where are you bound for, show-fear?” chimed in a third.
Pierre stopped the machine, and shrugged his shoulders in
characteristic French fashion.
“Ma foi, but these American boys are a lively lot,” he commented to
himself; then aloud: “You have not, I suppose, seen a boat-house near
here?”
“A boat-house?” queried one.
“Ma foi! Yes. I am seeking a boy; he run away from home--oh, such a
fine home--and join a party of scamps on a boat-house. But monsieur his
guardian, he----”
A hearty burst of laughter interrupted him, and another peal brought a
gleam into Pierre’s black eyes.
“For why you laugh?” he demanded, suspiciously.
“Because, chaffer,” said one, “you made a little slip.”
“A little slip? I no slip; what you mean?”
“In plain, unadulterated, unvarnished English, chaffer, we say, if I
grasp your meaning aright, a ‘house-boat.’”
The giggles broke forth again.
“Ah, ees that it? We say not like that in Français; ma foi, no. I
would, in la belle France, be driving an automobile rouge; and the boy,
he go off on a boat-house,” muttered Pierre, shaking his head.
“So you’re after the kid to take him back with you, eh?”
“Yes; to-night he sit here, and whiz--it is to Nyack he go.”
“What did he run away for?”
“Because he knows not what is good for himself.”
“Well, if we meet the lad, we’ll tell him where to find you,” laughed
one of the boys.
“No, no--ma foi, no!” cried Pierre, in alarm, as he made an emphatic
gesticulation. “No, no--make not like that!”
But his only answer was another loud burst of laughter; and, singing a
college refrain, the boys resumed their march, while the chauffeur,
wishing that he had not spoken quite so freely, started his machine
again.
The road, however, did not approach the river, and, fearing that the
Colonel might return, Pierre soon turned, and within a few minutes was
back at the starting point, again staring at the dark line of woods.
Suddenly he heard a sound which made him start to his feet with an
exclamation of alarm.
Over the still air, from the direction of the river, came a faint call
for help; and Pierre’s nerves tingled with excitement, as he strained
his ears to catch a repetition.
“Ma foi! Monsieur the Colonel--I think it ees his voice!” he cried
aloud, in agitated tones.
“Help!”
This time, Pierre was sure of it. With a wild shout, he sprang to the
ground and dashed across the road, then headlong through the thicket,
his form soon disappearing amidst the trees.
Like some huge monster guarding the highway, the red touring car, now
dusky and gray in the gloom, sent its acetylene glare streaming over a
silent and deserted road.
But it was not for long. George Clayton, whistling merrily, accompanied
by the others, came along at a brisk pace.
“Hello!” cried George, as he espied the car. “Wonder if anything’s
the matter? There’s no one in it. Looks like a good machine, too; eh,
Aleck?”
“A dandy; kind of funny to leave it standing here. Maybe something’s
busted, and the choofer has gone off after tools.”
“Chauffeur, you mean,” corrected George.
“Sure--that’s what I said. He wouldn’t--what’s the matter?”
“Goodness gracious! Also, did I ever know the beat!” cried George, his
voice trembling with excitement. “Well, of all things!”
“What’s the matter?”
“Matter enough; this is Uncle Dan’s, or, rather, my car--my car; do you
understand?--my car.”
“Your car?”
“As sure as you live; and I might have run right into Uncle Dan before
I knew it. Whew! Let’s skip, fellows. Gee whiz, what a narrow escape!
Who would have thought of his being right here? I expected he’d be
coming along, too; yet--say--I’ll bet----”
“Bet what?”
“That Uncle Dan and Pierre have discovered the house-boat.”
“And I guess you are right,” said Bob, with a long breath. “Why else
should they have left the machine just here? This is about where we
came through the woods.”
“Did you ever hear of meaner luck in your life?” cried George, his eyes
flashing with anger. “I declare! I’m no two year old, to be dragged
back home; and I won’t be, either.”
All the obstinate, combative spirit in George’s nature was aroused,
and, as he pictured Pierre Dufour’s triumph, he paced up and down and
clenched his fists.
“But how could they tell that the ‘Gray Gull’ was there?” murmured Tom.
“You can’t see the river.”
“It beats me,” answered George, in puzzled tones. “Mighty lucky we
stumbled across the car, or else I should have walked right up and
found Uncle Dan waiting to receive me with open arms.”
“What’s to be done?” yawned Dave.
“Lie low. They’ll have to be pretty smart to catch me. I haven’t done
anything wrong--tried my best to tell Uncle Dan about the trip, and he
cut me short. Then what did he say about Jack Lyons’ father--‘A good
lawyer and useful citizen.’ Of course I was surprised to find Redfern
aboard; but he’s a dandy chap, and I wouldn’t hurt his feelings by
backing out--no, sir.”
George spoke in a rapid, excited manner which showed the disturbed
condition of his feelings, all the time keeping a watchful eye open for
any signs of his uncle and Pierre.
Suddenly, boyish voices, raised as though an animated discussion was in
progress, reached their ears.
“Look out,” cautioned George.
“Just a lot of young chaps,” said Bob, reassuringly.
“I knew you were taking us about a mile out of our way, Bill Stiles,”
cried a voice. “Felt it in my legs, I did. Hang the luck, I’m so tired
now, I can hardly move.”
“If you knew so much about it, why didn’t you set us right, Roy
Pinger?” demanded another, loudly.
“Because Bill Stiles said he knew the way--that’s why.”
“Say, why doesn’t the whole crowd jump on me at once? If I hadn’t kept
my eyes open, you’d be strutting ahead now.”
“Oh, Jiminy! what a whopper, Bill Stiles. Bet you don’t know anything
about it. Hello--there’s that chaffer fellow out here yet.”
“He must have nabbed the lad on ze boat-house; and oh, how please
monsieur the Colonel will be! Oh, I say, chaffer, did you get him?”
“Gee whiz, listen to that! They must have been talking to Pierre!”
exclaimed George, turning excitedly toward the newcomers. “Look here,
you chaps,” he continued, “what do you know about this?”
“Why, where’s the shoofur?” asked one.
“Has the show-fear skipped?” said another. “Hello, you fellows--belong
around here?”
“No, we don’t,” answered George, shortly. “You met the chap who runs
this car, eh?”
“Surest thing you know. Monsieur the Colonel sent him after a lad who
ran off on a boat-house, and----”
“You don’t mean to say that he was alone?” queried George, in
astonishment.
“Sure he was,” replied the other, apparently surprised at the rich
boy’s manner.
George Clayton whistled; and then, as if feeling that it might not be
wise to let the others know too much, broke into a laugh.
“I suppose he’s over by the river, hunting for the poor chap, eh?”
Bill Stiles looked at the rich boy earnestly.
“Bill,” he said, very calmly, “you know something about this. The
chaffer says, ‘Whiz; it is back to Nyack he go.’”
“The choofer said that, did he?” exclaimed Aleck Hunt.
“Yes; that’s what the chaffer remarked, Bill number two. Get your legs
a-moving, Roy Pinger.”
“Say, you’re kind of fresh, aren’t you?” said George, quizzically.
“The salt of the earth are always fresh. So-long, Bill! Whiz! Look
out for monsieur the chaffer--whiz--which way is it, Roy Pinger?
Whiz--through the woods, eh? All right--toddle,” and, laughing and
jesting, the party of students made across the road.
“Well,” exclaimed George, as he gazed after their retreating forms,
“did you ever hear of such a piece of nerve in your life as Pierre
thinking he could come out here alone and yank me back? Just think of
it! I’m surprised at Uncle Dan--ab-so-lute-ly astonished; but I’m going
to teach that nervy chauffeur a jolly good lesson.”
“He needs it the worst way,” approved Bob. “And the cheek of him,
telling all those chaps about you.”
“What are you going to do?” asked Fred Winter, with interest.
“Listen--is that any one comin’?”
The boys strained their ears, but heard nothing save a faint rustling
caused by the fitful breeze.
“Pierre Dufour has just a little bit of a walk ahead of him,” went on
George, speaking rapidly. “This is my machine, bought with my own coin;
and if you chaps want a dandy ride, jump in.”
“What?” gasped Fred Winter.
“Why not?”
“That’s a bully idea,” laughed Aleck Hunt. “I’ll go, all right. Know
how to run the machine?”
“I can start and stop it,” answered George; “and talk a streak about
carburetors, spark plugs and steering gears; and if nothing busts,
and it stays face up, I’m all right. Jump in. That silly chump may be
nosing back any minute--quick! Want to go, Somers?”
Bob shook his head, and asked:
“How about the other boys?”
“We can leave the car in a garage somewhere and look out for ’em. I’ll
bet Pierre is over by the house-boat now; and you wouldn’t catch me
falling into any trap.”
“You two fellows go,” said Fred, solemnly, “and we’ll walk back. It’s
going to be a fine night to look at the moon, and----”
“That settles it,” laughed Aleck.
He jumped in beside George, who already had his hand on the steering
wheel.
“Sure you won’t take a ride, Dave?” asked the millionaire boy, fairly
bubbling over with impatience.
“No, thanks; that nice chair in the house-boat appeals to me.”
“You, Tommy?”
But Tom didn’t feel like going without the others, and declined
regretfully.
“Awfully sorry; but if you won’t accept the treat that settles it,”
said George, waving his hand. “This will be a great joke on fiery
Pierre; and a good lesson besides. So-long! What’s that? Sure--look out
for the two of us anywhere along the line. Bye, bye!” And almost before
the boys realized it the big car was in motion.
By this time the moon was just above the eastern horizon, and already
its silvery radiance was stealing over the landscape. The sky was a
deep gray blue, and not a cloud dotted its surface.
The two boys in the auto saw the pale white road extending off in an
almost straight line; back of them the distant hills rose dim and
ghostly against the sky, while over the broad expanse of gently rolling
country lights sparkled in various farmhouses. Far above, a night-hawk
screamed its way in a circling flight, and from the woods came the
melancholy hoot of an owl. It was a scene that awakened the admiration
of both boys, and, as the soft breeze fanned their cheeks, they enjoyed
it and the swift, gliding motion to the full.
What George lacked in skill as a chauffeur he made up in recklessness.
Soon the fields and the trees and the white road became a confused
blur. His eyes danced with excitement, and he put on still greater
speed. Faster--faster raced the touring car, until Aleck Hunt began to
grow dizzy.
A bridge flashed by; then tall trees seemed to spring up like warning
sentinels on either hand, and the road became a blotch of grim shadows
and silver lights.
By the side of a sycamore, whose spreading foliage entirely hid the
moon from view, George slackened speed.
“Can go some, eh?” said the boy, breathlessly.
“You bet,” answered Aleck, a trifle bewildered. “Gee whiz! Just like
being in a cup race.”
“And it isn’t anything to what it can do.”
“Perfectly stunning, anyway--dandy; but if we went a bit slower, we’d
see the scenery better,” said Aleck, ingeniously.
“That’s so,” admitted George. “Don’t I wish I could catch a glimpse of
Pierre’s face when he finds the machine gone--ha, ha! I can’t get over
it. If Uncle Dan had been along, I wouldn’t have done it--but----” and
George’s teeth shut together with a snap.
The woods were soon passed, and a little later, lights gleaming ahead
and a soft, hazy patch in the sky indicated that they were approaching
a town.
“Must be Newburgh,” remarked George. “And say, this is such jolly good
fun, I have an idea.”
“What is it?”
“Stop over night in the town, and early to-morrow start for
Poughkeepsie. Fred and the Ramblers will tell the boys we’re all right,
eh?”
“It’s a great thought,” said Aleck, enthusiastically. “A dandy time
ahead of us--hooray!”
“That’s what I think, too,” laughed George.
“Now we’ll swing along gently, so that no lynx-eyed constable will
greet us with open arms.”
Here and there a house was passed. Soon they became more numerous, and,
finally, the car was pounding slowly along the streets of Newburgh.
It was still early; the shops were brightly lighted, and in the
business section, quite a crowd ebbed and flowed along the sidewalks.
The experience was a novel one to Aleck Hunt, and he wondered at the
ease and coolness with which his companion steered the big machine
around wagons and out of the way of electric cars.
“Oh, this isn’t the first time I’ve done it,” laughed George,
apparently divining his thoughts. “Once or twice I have been in pretty
tight places, too. Look at that silly chump turning in ahead of us. He
never stopped to see where he was going. That’s the kind of thing which
often takes up a couple of inches’ space in the newspapers. Whoa, boy!
Just grazed his wheel. There’s a garage over on the other side of the
street, Aleck. We might leave the machine; then for something to eat,
and a nice room in the best hotel in town.”
“All right,” grinned Aleck. “This is more fun than looking at a few
little specks o’ light. Those other chaps certainly missed it.”
George quickly made arrangements to have his machine housed at the
garage, and, in a few minutes, the boys were off searching for a hotel.
One to their liking was found in the upper part of the town, and they
were soon enjoying a good meal in ease and comfort.