TO THE RESCUE.
"Boys, we've got to do something," declared Patrol Leader Ernie
Hunter, breaking the gaping silence that followed the reading of the
note.
"What shall we do?" asked Harry Gilbert, who was a good soldier, but
no leader.
"We must go to Mr. Stanlock's rescue," Ernie replied. "There is no
telling what those rascals are plotting. They may kill him if we don't
get there in time to prevent it."
"It's a long hike, and we may not be able to get there in time," Paul
Hunter warned.
"That means we've got to move mighty fast," Ernie said. "Boys, get
your guns and a supply of shells. I hope we won't have to use them,
but we'd better be well prepared. We're going to be late getting back,
so you may as well grab some bread and dried beef and anything else
you can find in a jiffy to eat on the way. We've got to start in three
minutes. Now everybody hustle.
"Paul, you and Jerry had better run home and stay there till morning,"
Ernie added, turning to his brother. Jerry was scarcely any larger
than Paul, although the latter was a year younger. Ernie felt a
slightly nervous responsibility for the safety of the "twin babies of
the bunch," as some one had already referred to them in the course of
the day. Jerry, who, like Paul, was an extremely likable fellow,
resented being called the baby of the patrol, a term sometimes applied
to him when the Scouts were dealing in jocular personalities.
"Not much are we goin' home," declared Paul, energetically; "are we,
Jerry? I'm goin' along and carry my target rifle with the rest. What
do you say, Jerry?"
"I'm with you," the latter announced with spirit. "They can't leave us
behind."
"But you can't make the trip fast enough," Ernie insisted.
"We'll have to run part of the way, and the ground is rough, and the
snow and ice on the road make it hard traveling. We've got over two
miles of that kind of hiking to do, and less than an hour to do it
in."
"We can make it just as well as anybody else in this bunch," declared
Paul, stoutly.
"Well, come along, then; but you will have to obey orders," said
Ernie, speaking as one with military authority. "We're operating under
martial law tonight, and if you insist on coming along you must expect
to be treated like a soldier. Everybody bring your gun and flashlight.
It's cloudy now and will be dark before long."
In scarcely more time than it takes to tell it, the boys had possessed
themselves of their guns, flashlights, overcoats, hats, and "a bite to
eat on the run," and were dashing out along the path leading down to
the road that skirted the foothill to the southward. Presently,
however, they slowed down to a "dog trot" at the suggestion of
Clifford Long, who warned his fellow Scouts against "tuckering
themselves out."
They continued along in this manner half a mile and then, by common
consent, reduced their pace to a walking long stride. As they
proceeded thus, Ernie said to Clifford Long and one or two others
nearest him:
"I'm afraid we've made a mistake in not doing one thing that has just
occurred to me. What I ought to have done was to hurry home, got the
automobile and made a race for the police station while you boys made
this trip. In that way we could 'ave had a double chance of catching
those bandits. If everything had gone smoothly, I might even have
beaten you boys to the scene of the hold-up with an auto load of
police. I could 'ave left word, too, for someone to call up Mr.
Stanlock's office and warn him, if by any cause he had been delayed."
"I don't think much of that suggestion," replied Clifford; "for, if
they haven't got him started by this time, they're not likely to get
him going their way tonight. But the other'd 'a' been a good one. It's
too bad you didn't think of it sooner."
"Too late now," said Ernie. "We've got to make the best of it."
"Who do you suppose those two men are that we saw come out of the
cave?" Miles Berryman inquired.
"The chances are ninety-nine out of a hundred that this affair is
connected directly with the strike," Clifford replied, with confident
assurance. "The highwaymen who plotted this scheme doubtless belong to
the rougher element of the strikers. They are really dangerous men,
and the community would be much safer if they were lodged in prison."
"How do you suppose they got your uncle to come away out here at the
time when he usually starts home for dinner--that is, if he really
came this way?" asked Hal Ettelson.
"That's the very thing that's bothering me most," Clifford replied,
with puzzled air. "Uncle is usually pretty shrewd, and I am pretty
certain that people who try to put anything over on him generally find
that they have a hard job on their hands."
"I'd take it, from the note Jerry found, that this is a decoy game
they're trying to work," Ernie remarked.
"It'd have to be a sharp one to get my uncle," declared Clifford.
"He's a very clever business man."
"The smartest men get caught once in a while," was Ernie's sage
remark.
"That must have been a chauffeur who wrote that note," observed Johnny
St. John. "It read as if a chauffeur was the brains of this plot. If
we get there on time, he won't have much to chauffeur it" (show for
it).
"Oh, Johnny Twice!" groaned Earl Hamilton. "Don't spoil your good
deed of finding that note by springing any more of that stuff. You're
taking an unfair advantage of us, for we can't stop now to duck you in
a snowdrift."
The road was not broken all the way for good walking, so that the boys
were forced to put forth their best efforts in order to reach the
place of the plotted ambush on time.
Their pace therefore varied from a rapid walk to a run, according as
their "wind" and leg muscles supplied the needed endurance. Paul and
Jerry found it pretty hard to keep up with the other boys during the
last three-quarters of a mile, especially when they struck a poorly
broken snowdrift or a stretch of ground covered with rocks or rough
ice. They were quite elated, however, at their ability to keep their
feet in these rough places, after seeing two of the larger boys slip
and fall.
It was almost dark by the time they reached the vicinity of the "sand
stretch" referred to in the note found by "Johnny Two-Times." This
stretch was a sand bed of several acres in extent, between which and
High Peak was a large stone quarry. The road ran between the "sand
stretch," which, of course, was now frozen and covered with snow, and
the quarry. The approach to this was sheltered, fortunately for the
concealment of the boy rescuers, by a growth of timber extending down
the mountain slope to the road.
Ernie called a halt about two hundred yards from the point in the
road which appeared the most favorable place for an ambush.
"Let's leave the road and make our way through the trees," he
suggested.
"There comes the automobile!" exclaimed Paul, excitedly, pointing down
the highway to the southwest.
Yes, a machine was approaching, about two miles away. The long stream
of light from the electric lamps could be seen, almost hitting the
sky, as the auto began to climb a steep hill. Evidently it had just
turned into this highway from another thoroughfare leading direct from
the city.
"Come on! We must hurry," said Ernie, dashing into the timber. "Be
careful; don't fall or run any branches in your eyes."
They made fairly good progress, considering the difficulties before
them and the darkness in the woods. However, they kept close to the
edge, where the tree growth was not very heavy and where the snow
reflected sufficient light to guide their feet. Ernie ordered that
none of the flashlights be used, and perhaps it was fortunate for the
success of the expedition that this order was issued and obeyed.
The efforts of the boys were well timed. Everything went like
clockwork, or so it afterward seemed. Two shadowy forms were discerned
standing in the thicker darkness under the trees as the automobile
arrived near the Southern edge of the quarry. The boys were within
easy attacking distance from the place where the two men stood. Ernie
whispered the word "Halt" loud enough for his companions to hear him.
They gathered around their leader, who hurriedly spoke thus:
"Now, everybody listen to me for orders. When I give the word, 'fire,'
you, Paul, John, Harry and Jerry, fire your guns into the air. Be
careful, and shoot up toward the tops of the trees, so as not to hit
anyone. Then I'll give the order to charge, and everybody let out an
Indian war-whoop or something of the sort. We won't have to do any
more shooting. Now, come on; we'll get closer. Those fellows are
starting now."
Even as he spoke, the two villainous individuals, with masks on their
faces, dashed out from the timber and planted themselves in front of
the automobile, with pistols leveled at the driver. The latter,
according to the plan outlined in his note discovered by "Johnny
Two-Times," slowed down the machine before the highwaymen appeared. At
the command to halt he came to a sudden stop and threw up his hands.
"Ready!--Fire!" commanded Ernie in a loud voice.
Two magazine shotguns and two target rifles exploded in quick
succession. Without giving the two hold-up men time to determine
whether they had been hit or not, the patrol leader issued his second
order, thus:
"Now, boys, after them! Charge! No quarter for the rascals!"
Then followed a scene that, for rapidity of action, is not often
surpassed by motion picture speed artists.
* * * * *