A FRUITLESS SEARCH
“B’ys! b’ys! Are ye after bein’ hurted?”
It was Andy Dugan who asked the question, as he came rushing to Joe and
Harry’s assistance and helped to set them on their feet.
“I—I guess I’m all right, Mr. Dugan,” panted Harry. “But I—I thought my
neck was broken at first!”
“So did I,” put in Joe. His left hand was scratched but otherwise he was
unharmed.
“Oh, father, the mare’s run away!” chimed in Teddy Dugan. “We won’t
never git her back anymore!”
“Hould yer tongue!” answered the parent. “She’ll come back as soon as
it’s feedin’ time, don’t worry.”
“Oh, father, are you sure?”
“To be course I am. Didn’t she run away twice before, an’ come back that
same way, Teddy? Come on after thim tramps an’ let the mare take care av
hersilf.”
“We’ve made noise enough to bring the tramps out—if they’re still in the
barn,” was Joe’s comment. “I believe they’ve gone.”
“Exactly my opinion,” answered Harry.
Advancing boldly to the doorway of the barn, Andy Dugan pointed his gun
and cried:
“Come out av there, ye rascals! Sure an’ it won’t do ye any good to
hide!”
To this demand no answer was returned, and a moment of painful silence
followed.
“Are ye comin’ out or not?” went on Dugan the elder. “Answer me.”
“How can they answer, father, if they ain’t there?” put in Teddy Dugan,
with a broad smile on his freckled face.
To this query the father made no reply, but advancing cautiously, he
gazed into the barn and then stepped inside.
“Are they there, Mr. Dugan?” queried Joe.
“If they are, they’re mighty good at hidin’.”
“Let us make a search,” said Harry. “Pat, you remain on guard outside.”
“That I will,” answered Pat. “Run ’em out here till I shoot ’em first,
an’ have ’em arrested afterwards!”
The barn was speedily searched, but the tramps had taken their
departure, and soon they discovered the track of the rascals, leading
across the fields to another road.
“I believe they left almost as soon as we did,” said Joe. “They knew
we’d come back with help.”
“Shall we follow?” asked Harry.
“Av course,” replied Andy Dugan.
“It’s getting rather dark,” went on Joe. “I’m afraid they have given us
the slip.”
The matter was talked over, and it was decided that all of the Dugans
should go forward, and Joe and Harry were to follow if they could find
the mare. If not, they were to tramp back to the Dugan homestead and
await news.
Half an hour was spent by the two boys in looking for the runaway steed,
and by that time both could hardly walk.
“I wish I was at the Dugan house this instant,” said Harry.
“Ditto myself, Harry. And I wish I had my watch and chain back. Did you
notice, the tramps didn’t touch the bags of nuts.”
“I guess they were too excited to remember them. Maybe they thought we’d
come back quicker than we did.”
The boys rested for awhile at the barn, and then, with their bags of
nuts on their shoulders, set out on the roadway once again.
“Tired out, are ye,” said Mrs. Dugan, on seeing them. “Where are the
others?”
They told their story, to which she listened with many a nod of her
head.
“The ould b’y take that mare!” she cried. “Sure an’ didn’t she run away
wid me wance an’ nearly scare me to death, so she did. Andy must trade
her th’ furst chanct he gits.”
She had prepared a hot supper and invited the boys to sit down, which
they did willingly, for, as Harry expressed it, “they were hollow clear
down to their shoes.”
The meal was just finished when one of the little children, who was at
the window gazing into the oncoming darkness, set up a shout:
“There’s Kitty now!”
“Who’s Kitty?” asked Joe.
“Sure an it’s the mare. She’s walkin’ in the yard just as if nothin’ had
happened at all!”
The youngster was right, and by the time the boys were outside the mare
was standing meekly by the barn door, waiting to be put in her stall.
“Now ain’t she aggravatin’?” came from Mrs. Dugan. “Ye can’t bate her
when she looks loike that, can ye? Poor Kitty! It’s a fool thing that ye
are entoirely!” And she hurried out, opened the stable and let the mare
find her proper place inside. “Fer sech a thrick, ye’ll git only half
yer supper this night,” she added, shaking her fist at the animal.
The boys knew that they would be expected home, and waited anxiously for
news of the Dugans. Fully an hour and a half passed, before they came
back, worn out and downcast.
“They give us the shlip,” said Andy Dugan. “They came around be the lake
road an’ thet’s the last we could find av thim.”
“And I guess that’s the last of my watch,” added Joe, soberly.
Andy Dugan had a faithful old horse in his stable and this animal he
harnessed to his family carriage, an old affair that had seen far better
days.
“Ye can drive yerselves home,” he said. “An’ leave the turnout at
Bennett’s stable. Tell him I’ll call for it to-morrow.”
“Thank you, Mr. Dugan,” said Joe. “We’ll settle for the keeping, and get
father to pay you——”
“That’s all right, Joe. I want no pay. Your father is a fri’nd av mine.
I’m sorry we didn’t catch the thramps, that’s all,” was Andy Dugan’s
reply.
It was not until nine o’clock at night that Joe and Harry drove into the
town of Lakeport. All the stores were closed, but the livery stable was
still open, and there they left the horse and carriage, as Andy Dugan
had directed. It was but a short walk from the stable to the house.
“I thought you would be back to supper,” said Mrs. Westmore, when they
entered. “I kept everything hot for over an hour.”
“We’ve had an adventure, mother,” answered Joe, and as the family
gathered around he told his story.
“Oh, Joe, weren’t you awfully scared!” cried Laura.
“I don’t like tramps at all!” piped in little Bessie.
“This is certainly an outrage,” said Mr. Westmore. “So the Dugans could
find no trace of them after they got on the lake road?”
“No.”
“I must have one of the constables look into this, and I’ll notify
Sheriff Clowes, too.”
“You can be thankful that the tramps did not injure you,” said Mrs.
Westmore, with a shudder.
“Yes, I am thankful for that,” said Harry.
“So am I, mother,” added Joe. “Just the same, I’m downright sorry to
lose that watch and chain.”
“Perhaps we’ll get on the track of it. If not, we’ll have to see what we
can do about getting you another,” added the fond mother.
The fact that Joe and Harry had been held up by tramps was speedily
noised around the town, and for the next few days the authorities and
several other people did what they could to locate the evildoers. But
the tramps had made good their escape, and, for the time being nothing
more was heard from them. But they were destined to turn up again, and
in a most unexpected fashion, as the pages to follow will testify.
Joe and Harry had many friends in Lakeport, boys who went to school with
them, and who played with them on the local baseball and football teams.
All of these were interested in the “hold-up,” as they called it, and
anxious to see the tramps captured.
“Glad it wasn’t me,” said one of the lads.
“I’ve got a gold watch—one my uncle left when he died.”
“Why didn’t you punch their heads?” questioned another, who had quite a
reputation as an all-around athlete. “That is what I should have done.”
“Yes, and maybe got killed for doing it,” came from a third. “Joe and
Harry were sharp enough to escape with whole skins, and that is where
they showed their levelheadedness.”
The adventure had happened on Saturday, and Monday found the boys at
school as usual. They were so anxious to get news concerning the tramps
that they could scarcely learn their lessons, but as day after day went
by without news, this feeling wore away; and presently the incident was
almost forgotten.
It was customary at Lakeport to close the schools for about a month
around the winter holidays and all of the pupils counted the days to
when the vacation would begin. At last the time came, and with a whoop,
Joe, Harry, and several dozen other lads rushed forth, not to return
until near the end of January.
“And now for Christmas!” cried Joe. Deep down in his heart he was
wondering if he would get another watch and chain.
Ice had already formed on Pine Lake, but just before Christmas it began
to snow and blow heavily, so that skating was out of the question. This
put something of a damper on the lads and they went around feeling
somewhat blue.
Christmas morning dawned bright and fair. The ground was covered with
over a foot of snow, and the merry jingle of sleighbells filled the air.
As may be surmised the Westmore boys were up early. There were many
presents to be given and received, and it was a time of great surprises
and not a little joy.
What pleased Joe most of all was the new watch he received. It was
decidedly better than the first watch had been, and so was the chain
better than the other.
“Just what I wanted!” he declared. “It tops all the presents—not but
what I like them, too,” he added, hastily.
Harry had slipped off without the others noticing. Now he came back, his
face aglow with enthusiasm.
“Oh, Joe, what do you think?” he cried. “The wind has swept Pine Lake as
clean as a whistle.”
“If that’s the case, Harry, we can go skating this morning instead of
waiting until after dinner. But how do you know the ice on the lake is
clear?”
“Didn’t I just come from there?” Harry held up a shining pair of
nickel-plated skates. “Couldn’t resist trying ’em, you know. Say, it was
just all right of Uncle Maurice to give each of us a pair, wasn’t it?”
“It certainly was,” returned Joe. “But I rather think I love that
double-barreled shotgun a little better. I am fairly aching to give it a
trial on a bird or a rabbit, or something larger.”
“Well, as for that, I don’t go back on the camera Aunt Laura sent up
from New York. Fred Rush was telling me it was a very good one, and he
ought to know, for he has had four.”
“What did Fred get for Christmas’?”
“A shotgun something like yours, a big bobsled, some books, and a whole
lot of other things. One book is on camping out, and he is just crazy to
go. He says a fellow could camp out up at Pine Island, and have a
bang-up time.”
“To be sure!” ejaculated Joe, enthusiastically. “Just the thing! If he
goes I’m going, too!”
“You don’t know yet if father will let you go. He says no boy should go
hunting without some old hunter with him.”
“I’m seventeen,” answered Joe, drawing himself up to his full height; he
was rather tall for his age. “And Fred is almost as old. I reckon we
could take care of ourselves.”
“If I went I’d like to take my camera,” said Harry. “I was reading an
article in the paper the other day about how to hunt game with a
snap-shot machine. That would just suit me. Think of what a famous
collection of pictures I might get—wild turkeys, deer and maybe a
bear——”
“If you met a bear I don’t think you’d stand to take his photograph.
I’ll wager you’d leg it for all you were worth—or else shoot at him. But
come on. If skating is so good there is no use of our wasting time here
talking,” concluded Joe, as he moved off.