A WILD NIGHT RIDE.
“I say, Jerry,” began Bob, dismounting from his motor-cycle one
afternoon in front of his chum’s house, “what do you say to a night
ride?”
“You mean on our machines?”
“Sure. Let’s get acetylene gas lamps, that give a good light, and ride
over to Fallsburg and back. We can start in the evening and easily make
the round trip in five or six hours.”
Fallsburg was a town about the size of Cresville and forty miles distant
therefrom. The road between was a fairly good one most of the way,
and, by making a circuit involving about five miles more of travel an
excellent highway for the whole distance was available.
It was decided to start right after supper, and the chums calculated
they could make Fallsburg in about three hours. They did not intend to
ride fast, and were out for pleasure rather than for speed.
Without special incident the trip to Fallsburg was concluded. It was
nine o’clock when the boys reached the town, which was quite a lively
place. Considerable of a stir was caused when our three heroes rode in
on their machines, which were somewhat of a novelty there.
“Hurrah! I see an ice cream sign!” exclaimed Ned, pointing down the
street.
Little time was lost in getting to the store and after each had put away
a large plate of the frozen stuff the boys felt better. The tables in
the ice cream parlor were separated one from the other by large screens.
In the improvised apartment just back of where the three boys were
sitting, voices in low conversation could be heard.
“Are you sure Noddy will be there?” was the cautious inquiry that came
to the ears of our heroes. At the sound of that name all three started.
“He’ll be there if his machine doesn’t break, which it has an unpleasant
habit of doing lately,” a second voice said.
“And do you think he’ll bring the money?”
“He’d better if he knows what’s good for him,” was the answer. “He’s put
me off long enough.”
“The old house by the cross-roads is the place, ain’t it?” asked the
party who had first spoken.
“That’s it, and if Noddy don’t show up he’ll hear from me in a way he
won’t like.”
“Come on,” whispered Jerry to his chums. “Let’s get out of this before
those men see us.”
Quietly the three boys left the ice cream parlor. They did not speak
until they were in the street.
“What do you suppose they were talking about?” asked Ned.
“I don’t know what the subject was,” replied Jerry, “but I venture to
say the person they meant was our acquaintance, Noddy Nixon.”
“And he’s evidently expected to pay over some money to-night,” added Bob.
“At the old house at the cross-roads,” put in Ned. “I’ll bet I know
where they mean.”
“Where?” asked Jerry.
“Don’t you remember that old tumbled-down place we passed about three
miles outside of this town? Near the blacksmith shop?”
“You mean right after we crossed the river?” inquired Jerry.
“That’s it.”
The same thought was in the minds of all three. Bob was the first to
mention it.
“Let’s go out there and see what we can learn,” he said. “It is on our
way home, and we have plenty of time.”
“There may be some danger,” objected Jerry.
“Nonsense. We have as much right there as any one. All we have to do is
to stop off from our motor cycles as we pass. No one can object to that.”
After some further conversation it was agreed to do this. The boys
wandered about the streets a while longer and, as it was nearing eleven
o’clock, they thought they had better start. They found their machines
in proper order, and soon were moving slowly out of town.
“There’s no use being in too much of a hurry,” advised Bob. “Probably
Noddy won’t meet the men there much before midnight, and it lacks half
an hour of that now.”
A little later the three boys came in sight of the deserted house.
Lonesome and uncanny enough it looked, the moonlight making mysterious
shadows here and there.
“Go easy,” spoke Ned. “No need to tell them we are coming if by any
chance they are there.”
Silently the boys dismounted from their cycles, leaned the machines up
against the fence a short way from in front of the house, and crept up
through the long grass that filled the yard of the old vacant structure.
“Hold on!” cried Bob suddenly.
All three came to a halt.
“What is it?” whispered Jerry.
For answer Bob pointed toward a shed at the side of the house. In it
could be seen a light gleaming.
“Are they in there?” asked Jerry.
“No, but some one’s motor-cycle is,” replied Bob.
Foot by foot the three boys made toward the dark and deserted house.
They had circled half way around it, and, coming to the rear, were
suddenly brought to a halt by a sliver of light shooting out from some
crack.
“Hold on!” exclaimed Bob.
They stopped and looked toward the light. It came from the kitchen
window, which was closed by broken shutters through a splintered slat of
which the gleam came. On tip-toes the three boys crept under the window.
They peered into the room, and the sight that met their eyes made them
start in surprise.
Seated around a rough table, on which stood a lighted candle stuck in a
bottle, were three figures. One was Bill Berry, the other was a stranger
and the third was Noddy Nixon. The stranger was holding a pistol to
Noddy’s head, and seemed to be threatening him.
Bill Berry was looking on, and taking no part in the proceedings,
evidently. Then, as the boys watched, they saw Noddy, plainly in fear of
the man with the weapon, pull from his pocket a roll of bills.
He gave it to the stranger, fairly throwing it at him in a rage. Then
the man with the pistol, smiling in a satisfied way, put up his weapon.
Noddy was saying something, for the boys could see his lips moving, but
they could not hear the words, for the window was closed.
“Queer doings,” whispered Jerry.
At that instant Ned, in an endeavor to see better, leaned a little
forward. A piece of board he was standing on broke with a loud crash,
and he toppled forward, hitting the window shutter with his elbow.
Like a flash Noddy, Bill and the strange man leaped to their feet and
gazed in the direction of the window.
“Quick! Light out of this!” exclaimed Bob. “They will be after us in
another minute!”
Sure enough, after a moment’s hesitation, Noddy ran toward the door with
the intention of going outside and seeing who had made the racket.
“Hurry!” whispered Bob hoarsely. “To the motor-cycles!”
The three boys lost no time. Hastening on in the darkness they stumbled
and ran to where they had left their machines.
As they reached them they heard a door opened, and footsteps in hot
pursuit.
“Who is it?” they heard Noddy’s voice inquiring.
The boys rolled their motor-cycles out in the road. They leaped into the
saddles, started off, and in another instant had turned on the power and
were off down the highway leading to Cresville. As they whizzed past the
house, in which several lights now gleamed, they heard Noddy cry:
“Confound them! I’ll fix them for spying on me!”
At the same time they heard the explosions that indicated that Noddy had
put his motor cycle in operation.
“The race is on!” cried Ned.
And a race it was to be. They were about thirty-five miles from
home. There was a good road, and, with the moon high up now, it was
well lighted. The acetylene lamps on the machines also gave good
illumination. In a few minutes the motors of the three boys were humming
on half-speed.
Behind them, borne on the night wind, could be heard the puffing of the
motor-cycle in pursuit. But the three chums had a start of several
minutes, which counted much.
“Look behind and see if you can see his lamp,” said Ned.
“Not a gleam,” reported Bob, after a hasty glance.
Several miles were passed in this fashion, the pursuing machine getting
no nearer. Then, all at once, Ned cried:
“I can see his light!”
It was true. Either Noddy had increased his speed, or he had emerged
from behind some bend in the road that hitherto hid the gleam of his
lamp from the boys.
At the same time the explosions of his motor sounded louder.
“He’s catching up to us!” cried Jerry. “Shall we turn on more power?”
“It’s a little risky,” cautioned Bob. “Especially as we don’t know the
road very well. However, another notch or two won’t do any harm.”
Noddy was now within an eighth of a mile. His speed was increasing.
Suddenly he called:
“Whoever you are, stop, or I’ll shoot!”
“He don’t know who we are, anyhow,” said Jerry.
“I’m going to fire!” shouted Noddy.
“This is getting exciting!” cried Ned.
“He is only trying to scare us,” exclaimed Bob.
Then came a loud report.
“That wasn’t a revolver!” exclaimed Jerry. “It sounded as if one of his
tires burst. That’s it!” he added a second later, as he looked back.
“Noddy has had an accident. I guess this race is off!”
True enough, the front tire on Noddy’s machine had collapsed. He was
forced to stop, and, as the boys sped on they could hear him faintly
calling after them. The three chums reduced the speed of their motors,
but did not stop, and soon they were out of sight and hearing of Noddy.
“Well, we certainly had an adventure,” came from Ned. “I wonder what it
was all about?”
“We’ll find out some day,” was Jerry’s opinion.
Then, once more they took up their journey, and reached Cresville
without further happening, arriving just before daylight.