A RACE AGAINST TIME.
The moment the cat-boat bumped against the shore Joe and Fred leaped
out.
"Can I do anything more for ye?" questioned Joel Runnell.
"I don't know of anything," answered Joe. "If we can't find any other
way to get to Lakeport we'll have to walk it."
"And that will take us until after dark, and the game will be over,"
added Fred, with a groan. "Joe, our enemies have got the best of us,
after all."
"Perhaps, but I am going to expose them for this, and don't you forget
it!" said Joe, bitterly.
"Yes, but I'd rather be there and help to beat the Excelsiors."
"Oh, so would I."
The lake shore road to Lakeport was located some distance away, and,
bidding Joel Runnell good-bye, they scrambled through the brushwood and
over the rocks to get to it.
"If we could only locate a horse----" began Joe, when he heard a merry
shout from up the road, and looking in that direction saw four fellows
on bicycles coming along at a swift gait. As they drew closer they
recognized George Dixon and Roy Willetts, of the Brookside Baseball
Club.
"Hi! stop! stop!" cried Joe, and Fred joined in quickly. "Stop, Dixon!
Stop, Willetts! We want to speak to you!"
"What's up?" came from George Dixon, as he slowed up after passing them
and turned back. "Why, if it isn't Joe Westmore! And Fred Rush, too! I
thought you were going to play ball this afternoon? We were going to
Lakeport to see you."
"We were going to play," answered Joe. "We were carried away to Pine
Island against our will, and we want to get back to Lakeport just as
soon as we can."
"You'll lend me a wheel, won't you?" pleaded Fred of Roy Willetts.
"And I'd like to have your bicycle," said Joe to George Dixon. "I know
it's rather cheeky, but I can't think of anything else to do."
"Carried to Pine Island against your will?" came from another rider,
the four having surrounded Joe and Fred. "Do you mean you were
kidnapped?"
"Yes. Don't you remember that old Dubber case? Well, this is like it."
"Humph!" came from George Dixon. "It's a shame! Well, you can have my
wheel, Joe, and welcome. I can ride on behind Cass. Can't I, Frappy?"
"Sure."
"And you can have my wheel," said Roy Willetts to Fred. "I'll ride
behind Al Lemming."
"We shan't forget your kindness," cried Joe, as he mounted the bicycle.
"That's all right. I only hope you get to Lakeport in time. We are
late. That front tire doesn't hold the wind very well."
By this time Fred was also mounted, and side by side he and Joe made
off down the road which led to Lakeport. The other boys, with their
passengers, came on more slowly and were soon lost to sight behind a
bend.
"This is what I call falling in with fortune!" cried Fred.
"That's true, Fred. But you must remember that we have a long and hard
ride before us. We've got to go over Misson Hill."
But little more was said, for each of the boys wanted to save his
breath. Each could ride well, which was in their favor. Along the road
they spurted, avoiding the deepest of the ruts and the big stones. They
often "took chances," but felt that, under the circumstances, this was
necessary.
Inside of an hour they reached a farmhouse situated directly on the
road. They knew the farmer well and, dismounting, asked if they could
have a bite to eat.
"We are in a great hurry," said Joe. "But we must have something, as we
haven't had anything since yesterday."
The farmer's wife gave them some bread and cold meat, and also some
doughnuts and milk. She did not wish any pay, so they made her little
girl happy by giving her a twenty-five cent piece.
"Now for home!" cried Joe, as he swung up on the saddle once more.
"That lunch makes me feel as fresh as when we started."
"I'd like it better if my saddle was a little lower," said Fred. "But
I'm not going to bother with altering it now."
Mile after mile was reeled off and still the two bicyclists kept at
their tasks of diminishing the distance between themselves and home.
Going up Misson Hill was hard work, especially for such a stout youth
as Fred, and Joe had to slow up a trifle for his chum's benefit.
"This isn't going to do us any good when it comes to playing ball,"
puffed Fred.
"Oh, if we can only get there in time I'll compel Si Voup to give us
time in which to rest," answered Joe.
The road down the hill was rather rocky and in one spot there was a
steep incline.
"Look out there, Joe!" cried Fred, but the next instant both were
flying down the incline at top speed.
All might have gone well had it not been for a washout near the bottom
of the hill. This had left a deep gully directly across the roadway and
when the boys struck this gully both went flying off their bicycles and
into the bushes. The wheels were badly bent, and one of Fred's tires
came completely off.
"Hurt?" asked Joe, as he managed to pick himself up.
"I--I don't know," gasped the stout youth. "Oh, what a tumble!"
"Look at the wheels!"
"That settles the question of riding, Joe. We are certainly booked to
walk the other four miles."
"Four miles, and it's half-past two o'clock now!"
"That's true. But do you see any way out of it?"
"No. And another thing: What are we to do with the wheels? We can't
leave them here. We've got to have them mended for their owners."
"Maybe they'll be along soon."
"No, they must be miles behind us."
Both of the youths stood looking at the injured wheels in great
perplexity. The bicycles weighed over twenty pounds apiece and they did
not relish carrying such a load.
"Somebody is coming along the road in a carriage," said Joe, a moment
later. "Perhaps he'll help us in some way."
The carriage was coming from the direction of Lakeport. Soon it was in
sight and then Fred uttered a glad cry:
"My father!"
"Why, it certainly is!" ejaculated Joe. "Here is luck truly!"
"Hullo!" shouted Mr. Rush, as he came up in his buggy. "Where in the
world have you two boys been?"
"It's a long story, father," answered his son. "Just now we'd like to
get back to Lakeport as quickly as possible. Will you take us, and
take the wheels, too?"
"Certainly. It will be quite a load, but I reckon Dolly can manage it."
With the aid of a hitching strap, the bicycles were fastened to the
back of the buggy, and then the boys hopped in beside Mr. Rush. The
mare was turned around and touched up with the whip, and off they sped
for home.
"This beats bicycling," said Joe. "It will rest us up for that game."
Mr. Rush wanted to know the particulars of the kidnapping and the boys
told him all they knew.
"Those rascals should really be locked up for this," said the
gentleman. "But the thing is to prove their identity. You can't say
that you saw any of them."
"That's true, father," answered Fred.
"I suppose Si Voup looks at it as a good joke, but I can't see it in
that light," went on Mr. Rush.
"Marcy must have done it just to make trouble for us," came from Joe.
"He is awfully sore over the way he was treated last winter."
"Has Mr. Shale ever been able to connect him with the stealing of the
_Sprite_?"
"No, that affair is still as much of a mystery as ever."
"I think it might pay to have Dan Marcy watched."
Dolly was a fast mare, and touching her up occasionally with the whip
made her keep at a good speed. On and on they went, until from a slight
rise of ground they could see the church spires of Lakeport.
"What time is it now?" asked Joe.
"Exactly twelve minutes of three," answered Mr. Rush, after consulting
his watch.
"And how far have we still to go?"
"About a mile and a half, and then around to the baseball field. I
suppose you want to go right over."
"Oh, yes."
"We haven't any suits," put in Fred.
"Never mind, we can send for them."
The buggy continued to rattle on, and at last they dashed into a side
street of Lakeport. Then they took a turn and made for the ball
grounds. Joe looked back at the town clock.
"Four minutes of three!" he cried, triumphantly. "Won't our enemies be
astonished to see us!"
"And won't our friends be glad!" added Fred.