A LONELY TRAIL.
The hours crept by with leaden feet for Ding-dong until the chugging of
Pepper’s motorcycle was heard soon after supper. The young wireless
operator had tried to communicate with Goat Island in the meantime, but,
as we already know, had failed in his attempt. As a last resource,
therefore, he had entrusted a message to the operator at Station O.
“All ready?” demanded Pepper, as he came dashing up.
“Been rur-rur-ready ever since you left,” declared Ding-dong; “let’s get
off as soon as possible.”
“All right, run along behind, and when I tell you to, swing into the
seat,” ordered Pepper.
He started his motor with a whirr and a bang and the speedy machine
dashed off down the street, with Ding-dong clinging on behind with all
his might. But he enjoyed the ride and waved to several of his young
acquaintances as the motorcycle sped through the town and then out upon
the country road.
“How far is it out there?” asked Ding-dong of Pepper, as they chugged
along at a fast gait.
“Not more than ten or twelve miles, but it is in a lonesome canyon near
the sea, and as the ground is very unproductive out that way, there
isn’t another ranch within miles. It makes a fine hiding place for a man
like you describe this fellow Minory to be.”
“Yes, I’ll ber-ber-bet he thought he could stay there for a year without
being found out. It’s a lot less rer-rer-risky for him than to
ter-ter-try to take a train, for he knows all the depots and steamers
are watched.”
“What puzzles me is how he came to take up his residence there. He’d
hardly be likely to stumble on such a place by accident,” said Pepper,
“especially as he is an Eastern product.”
“That’s all b-b-b-beyond me,” declared Ding-dong, “but I g-g-g-guess
after his arrest that will be straightened out.”
“Gracious, talk about counting chickens before they’re hatched! You’ve
got the handcuffs on him already.”
“If it’s Mum-Mum-Minory he’ll be in safe hands before long,” declared
Ding-dong stoutly.
“Well, don’t you go messing up in it,” implored the cautious Pepper.
“From what I saw of those fellows this afternoon, they wouldn’t stop at
much if they thought they were going to be betrayed to the authorities.”
“Oh, I’ll be c-c-c-careful,” promised Ding-dong.
The motorcycle began to hum along roads that grew wilder and less
inhabited. It was still twilight, and they could see lone ranches
setting back among dismal bare hills, with a few scrawny cattle or sheep
grazing behind apparently interminable stretches of barb-wire fences.
“Nice cheerful sort of country,” commented Pepper. “I don’t wonder your
friend figured that nobody would come nosing around here unless they had
to.”
“But you rode out here this afternoon,” said Ding-dong; “go-g-g-g-good
thing you did, too.”
“That remains to be seen,” commented Pepper laconically.
It grew dark. They came to a cross-roads where stood the ruins of what
once had been a store. But it had long since fallen into decay and stood
there deserted and ruinous like the tombstone of past prosperity.
“Are we near there now?” asked Ding-dong.
“Yes, it’s about half a mile up this road and then quite a distance back
from the sea-beach.”
“Then as we’re so close, you’d better shut down your machine. They might
hear it and be on the lookout.”
“That’s so. Get ready to dismount then. All right? Whoa!”
The motorcycle stopped and the boys jumped off. Pepper leaned his
machine up against the ruined store and prepared to follow Ding-dong and
guide him. But the latter protested. There was no sense in Pepper’s
running the risk of being captured, he argued; and besides, if he
(Ding-dong) got into trouble, it would be the better plan to have Pepper
out of harm’s way so that he could go back and give the alarm.
Pepper was forced to agree to this logic, and it was decided that if
Ding-dong didn’t return in an hour Pepper was to ride at full speed back
to town and get help. The boys shook hands and parted, Pepper assuring
Ding-dong that he could not mistake the house, as there was only one in
that direction.
It would be idle to deny that Ding-dong felt a thrill that was not
wholly excitement as he struck off down the dark road alone. To make
matters worse, it began to drizzle and blow; the storm which had already
struck Goat Island was sweeping inland.
“Suppose this should all turn out to be a wild goose chase,” the boy
thought as he trudged along, “I’d look like a fine idiot. But somehow I
don’t think it will be. I’ve got a strong feeling that Minory’s jig is
up at last. However, we’ll soon see.”
At length, to his right, and back from the road, he spied a solitary
light.
“I guess that is the place,” he thought with a sudden sensation of
tightness in his throat as if his heart had just taken up quarters
there. To the boy there appeared something sinister, something like the
evil glare of a one-eyed man in this solitary light in that lonely part
of the country.
But Ding-dong didn’t hesitate long.
“I’ve got to take the bull by the horns if we ever want to get Minory by
his whiskers,” he said to himself, and struck into a narrow sort of
cow-track that appeared to lead toward the distant light. Behind him the
sea moaned and crashed on the beach; ahead of him towered the solitary
house in the gloomy canyon.
It was a rough track, little more than a trail, that the boy had decided
to follow, but he found that it was steadily bringing him nearer to the
light. Once he almost turned heel and ran for his life, such was the
tension on his nerves. Out of the darkness before him had loomed
suddenly a white face. It looked like a ghostly skull, and Ding-dong was
so startled that he almost cried out aloud. The next minute he got mad
with himself, for with a “Whoof!” the “baldy” steer, for that was what
the white-faced apparition was, turned and clattered off.
“Wow! I’m getting as nervous as a girl on graduation day,” said
Ding-dong to himself. “Bother this rain! I’ll catch one thing sure out
of this, and that’s a fine young cold.”
The light was quite close now, and he advanced more cautiously. At last
he could see the outlines of the ranch house bulking blackly against the
slope of the bare hillside beyond. Like a cat stalking a mouse,
Ding-dong crept forward. His heart beat so loudly that it sounded to him
like the banging of a hammer against his ribs.
“Wish I could muffle it,” he said, in vain trying to compose his nerves.
It was a risky thing that the boy was doing, and one which a lot of men
would have hesitated at. He knew Minory’s character, and was pretty sure
that the man who would harbor him could not be much better than his
guest. He might expect small mercy if he fell into their hands. Yet he
was doing what he deemed to be his duty, and that thought gave him
courage to proceed.
At last he reached a point of vantage where he could creep up on the
window sidewise, and very slowly and patiently he did so. The casement
was open, for the night was warm, and crouching under the open sash he
listened attentively to the growl of masculine voices which was audible
from within.
With a sharp thrill he recognized one of them as being Minory’s. The
other was unknown. He had just made this discovery when something
happened so entirely unexpected that the boy was for an instant almost
deprived of his wits.
Without knowing it, he had been standing on a board. Suddenly it snapped
in two without the slightest warning. As it broke, it gave a loud
“crack!” almost as loud as a pistol shot.
“What’s that?” came a shout from within, and Ding-dong heard a
heavy-footed rush for the window.
“It’s a spy!” came a shout, and then an oath.
Ding-dong’s activities returned with a rush. Like a jack rabbit he
darted off, running as he had never run before. Behind him came shouts:
“It’s one of those kids! Get him! Get him if you have to shoot him!
Don’t let him get away!”
Ding-dong’s fear lent him wings. As he fled, he heartily wished he had
informed the police and let them attend to the case. But it was too late
for such wishes now. All at once his foot caught in a root and he fell
headlong. He was up in a second, but in that brief fraction of time his
pursuers had gained on him.
Bang! A report sounded behind him and a bullet whistled somewhere near
his head.
“Gracious, pretty close shooting, considering they’re on the run!”
thought the boy.
Panting and desperate, he pressed on, while behind him still came the
rapid beat of feet. Then came another sound that caused his terror to
redouble. It was the sharp rattle of a horse’s hoofs coming forward at
top speed! Ahead of the boy lay the sea. He could go no further.
“Gracious! It’s all over now!” he thought, when suddenly the earth
appeared to drop out from under his feet and he felt himself falling,
clutching frantically at the air, through space. Above him somewhere,
heard dimly as if in a dream, came shouts and hoarse cries mingled with
the trampling of hoofs.
Ding-dong gave a desperate shout, and it was still on his lips when he
struck something solid but soft and yielding.