THE KIDNAPERS
Phil, it appeared, was the only one to think out two reasons why there
was little necessity for being exact about measurements. Coster had
drawn his rough diagram on the envelope probably from memory. It was,
according to Coster, somewhere near a half mile from the tavern to the
split hemlock. The main thing was to keep the proper direction, if
anything like strict obedience was due to the pencilled chart. Therefore
he took upon himself the sole task of going south, and when he had
convinced himself that he was somewhere in the neighborhood of that half
mile, he began to look about for the big split hemlock.
None could he then see. There were other hemlocks, but all of a younger,
second-growth variety. So he ranged to and fro, but no such tree could
he find. The undergrowth was not thick, yet it prevented clear vision of
anything more than a few yards away. He was about to give up, feeling a
first sense of coming despair, when he caught sight of a high bulge
upward through the tops of some clumps of bushes. He sprang on a nearby
log and his pulse thrilled a bit when he saw that what was in view was
the rounded top of a big rock.
Impetuously he leaped on through the bushes, but when nearly there he
stumbled and fell over a tree root. Following the fallen trunk he noted
an enormous split, extending from where the trunk divided halfway down
towards the upturned root.
"By hokey! Can this be it?"
Plunging through the thick bushes, he reached the place where the
branches spread out over the ground, first noticing that the withered
leaves, like needles, still sharp and pointed, were undoubtedly of the
hemlock variety. Moreover, the big rock which had first caught his
attention seemed to be about the proper distance from where the roots
showed the hemlock must have stood before the storm, or whatever caused
it to fall, had done its work.
About this time he heard calls from his partners, for Phil was yet
hidden from them by intervening bushes. Moreover, he was some distance
away, which confirmed one of two facts. Either the two lads had measured
or counted wrong in their advance with the tapeline or, as Phil
concluded, the distance was only approximate. A prisoner, trusting
largely to memory, Coster could not be exact, unless by sheer accident.
"Hullo! Here I am, boys! Come this way!"
They came, Phil assisting their progress by calling out now and then.
When they arrived, no hemlock being in sight, the boys stared first at
Phil seated on the trunk of an upturned tree, then at the boulder close
by.
"How'd you get way out here?" demanded Paul.
"Followed my nose! How would you think?" Phil looked amused. "What's
that you got--a tapeline?"
"Yep," replied Dave. "Wanted to be exact as possible."
Phil laughed. Said he:
"Do you reckon Coster was very exact when he drew that map--from
memory?"
"Oh--stuff! I don't see any big split hemlock."
"You're looking at it, stupid! I'm sitting on the butt of it, and right
there is the rock, I think."
At first inclined to scoff, both lads now saw Phil's side of it at once.
Dave looked about again.
"It's a thick place here," he ventured. "You were lucky to stumble on it
this way, Phil."
"Didn't stumble on it. I was particular about keeping my compass right.
When I got where I thought I might have gone half a mile or so I began
to look round a bit. I couldn't see any big split hemlock, but I did
manage to find this big rock. After that it was easy to find the tree,
even though it had been blown down."
After some further talk it was agreed that the first step would be to
return to the car. Then they would decide upon what to do next.
"I think we should visit that old tavern while we are here," remarked
Paul. "No knowing what we might find there. If there's an old shovel or
anything, we might come back and dig under that rock for a starter."
Phil and Dave also had their theories as to what should next be in
order, but nothing conclusive was determined on. Meanwhile the three,
threading the trail Phil had first followed and which Dave and Paul had
made more distinct, they finally reached the clump of shade trees where
they had left Billy on guard over the Big Six.
But in the place of the glistening car with Billy Worth still on guard
there was only a vacant place. No glimpse of either was anywhere to be
seen.
"Look here--on the ground," exclaimed Paul, pointing here and there.
"Somebody else has been here! Looks as if there had been a scuffle!"
Where Paul was pointing there were signs of many footsteps, inextricably
intermingled, with sundry deep gouges in the loose soil as if those who
made them were in a struggle of some kind.
"Look here, boys!" Dave was holding up a soiled handkerchief that he had
found underneath a jumble of twigs and leaves evidently kicked together
by those engaged in the scuffling, signs of which were more than
plentiful. "By jimminy! That's Billy's handkerchief or I'm blind!"
Sure enough, it was Billy's, for in one corner were his initials which
the boys had often seen on many of his belongings.
Phil meanwhile had been taking a comprehensive survey of the whole
scene. Presently he noted that while the struggles had gone on mostly in
one spot, there were, at one side, clear markings of the car wheels as
it was steered in a semicircle towards the very road along which the
boys had traveled not more than an hour or so before.
"Boys," said he, "I hate to acknowledge it, but Billy must have been
surprised by somebody. Probably outnumbered, too. These tracks show that
Billy must have put up a good fight; but they were too many for him,
whoever they were. Come on! We've no time to lose!" And straightway he
began following the tracks through the straggly undergrowth until he
reached the road.
The others, catching the significance of Phil's suspicions, plodded
after, taking in as they went where the car, avoiding the more open
spaces, had plunged through the thicker growth. Evidently those on board
were bent on gaining the road by the nearest route, and at a point
somewhat beyond where the car had turned off when the boys first reached
that place.
To the right was the old tavern, and at one spot the car had stopped
where there were signs that a path had been crushed out in traveling
through the brush towards the tavern.
"Look here," said Phil. "What does this mean?"
The signs were plain that something or someone had been half dragged or
carried along towards the old Ghost Tavern.
"What had we better do?" exclaimed Dave. "Follow the car or take a look
into that old ramshackle building?"
"Gee! Why, Billy may have been carried there--hark!"
At this from Paul all listened intently. There were certainly queer
sounds to be heard somewhere ahead. Phil dashed boldly forward, calling:
"Dave, you go back and see which way that car went! Then come back to
Paul and me. Get a hustle on now!"
Paul, dashing on after Phil, heard Dave grunt a dubious acquiescence as
he turned back towards the road. They could trust Dave. He was often
doubtful, even dubious, but he had sharp eyes and good judgment in the
main.
A minute or so later Phil, followed closely by Jones, reached a more
open space, though overgrown with straggly weeds and grass.
"This must be the yard of the old inn," remarked Phil. "Look, Paul!"
He was pointing where the woods trail on entering the yard showed
distinct signs where some hard objects had been half dragged. It was as
if boot-heels had dented the soft places in a steady imprint.
Just then came sounds from inside the house that might have been grunts
or groans of pain. Without a halt Phil dashed over the porch, where
heavier weights had partially crushed the rotten flooring. Avoiding
these places, the two boys--Phil still in the lead--entered a short
hallway, where was a doorless opening that led into what once had
doubtless been the tavern office.
On the floor of the porch and hallway were fresh tracks, with the trail
of shoe or boot-heels dragging along. The office room looked dark
inside, though a couple of sashless windows let in some light which was,
however, little more than shadowy gloom from the overhanging branches of
the trees without. While they stared, listening, something stirred and
scraped the dusty floor in a far corner, where a short counter toppled
outward as if in danger of falling over.
"What's that?" echoed Phil. "Is it anybody?"
Muffled, jerky noises issued from the recess under the half tumbling
counter. With an exclamation Paul darted forward, reached under the
counter and felt an object that at once electrified the boy.
"Let's pull it out, Phil!" he urged. "It may be--"
Aided by Phil, Paul dragged forth a bound form, tied hand and foot with
improvised shreds of cloth, the mouth tightly gagged with a couple of
kerchiefs--in a word, Billy!
"Why, Billy, you poor boy!" exclaimed Phil, whipping out his knife and
in another minute releasing the cords that bound him and cutting loose
the cruel gag that had been so tightly forced into the lad's mouth that
the corners of his lips were bleeding.
They bore him out of the porch to a grassy place, where with a sudden
wriggle Billy sat upright, twisted his neck about, gulped a time or two,
then stared at his comrades as if astonished.
"D-didn't you hear me holler?" he asked. "But of course you didn't.
Before I was half awake they had me down out of that car trying to gag
and bind me."
"Who, Billy? Just what do you mean?"
"I mean those two chaps that caught me fast asleep under Paul's rug on
the back seat, taking forty winks when I ought to have kept wide awake."
"Two men?" Instantly Phil's thoughts ran back to the two strangers they
had seen at Feeney's who seemed so anxious to get away as soon as the
boys arrived with Nan.
"Would you know them if you saw them? Were they the two strangers we saw
at Feeney's? Think hard, Billy!"
"Confound 'em--they had on handkerchiefs that covered their faces, so I
could hardly tell. I didn't get more'n a glimpse or two along at first.
Then they pulled something over my head after gagging me so tight it
hurt. My mouth is sore now." Billy dubiously fingered the corners of his
mouth. "One thing I'm sure of. One of the men we saw at Feeney's had on
a visored gray cap and gray clothes. The other wore something darker. I
feel sure the gray-clad man was one of 'em. Of course I never got half a
glimpse of their faces."
"Recognize these handkerchiefs?" asked Phil, showing the ones used in
binding and gagging. "Two of 'em are bandanas: the others of a soiled,
nondescript variety that might have belonged to tramps of any sort."
By this time Billy was more himself, being pretty well recovered from
his recent manhandling. He was the first to think again of the Big Six.
"I'm all right now, fellows. Let's see what went with the car. They
stopped with me some distance from this old rookery. Gosh! If it wasn't
for the car, I'd like to take a look around!"
But, like Worth, whom they were most glad to have with them again, all
hated to feel that the pride of their hearts, their new car, was gone.
But where?
At this juncture they were joined by MacLester, who after greeting Billy
very effusively for one who had seen him just two hours before, turned
to the others, interrupting Worth's brief recital of what had happened
to him.
"Boys," Dave began, "I followed those tracks about thirty yards or so;
then they turned towards the railroad; right through the woods, too.
Rough going for a car like ours. I bet she's all scratched up by now, if
nothing worse happens to her."
"Did you go any further, Dave?" This from Paul eagerly.
"Why, yes! Presently the car struck another old trail that led towards
the road, and I picked up this."
Mac held out the visored cap Worth had mentioned to Paul and Phil. At
sight of it Billy grabbed it and turned it over in his hands as he said:
"That's the one the chap in gray wore, I'm sure."
"Must 'a' got knocked off going through the woods," said Dave. "I think
they were in a hurry or they'd never have plunged along the way they did
over such rough places."
"Well, if we're through here, let's get on." Thus spoke Phil, ever
mindful of the lost car. "I took a look into a back room of the old
tavern, and I saw a queer outfit--looked as if they'd been camping and
working there. Saw tools, and what looked like a sort of forge or
fireplace. But we've no time now for anything but to look after the car.
Come on!"
Rapidly now the four lads pushed through the woods along the old road,
then into the woods again along the open trail that led recklessly over
rocks, through thick undergrowth and over fallen saplings, with here and
there uneven rifts and rises, showing that nothing but superior motor
power could have propelled the machine thus far.
"Bust their dirty hides!" said Paul wrathfully. "Those two ain't fit to
drive cattle to water! Hello! What's that?"
Jones, being in the lead, was pointing at a tumbled mass of their own
outfit that had been dumped overboard during a rapid downward course,
the end of which was not in sight owing to the thicker screen of bushes
beyond, which the partially denuded car somehow had crashed through.
Paul and Billy paused to gather up the suitcases, bags of bedding, and
the wicker hamper containing their present supply of food, while Dave
and Phil hurried ahead, their route roughly descending now until,
reaching the thick screen where the car had crashed through, they came
unexpectedly to a low embankment. At the bottom was the dry bed of a
small brooklet, with a further shore that sloped gradually up into
second-growth timber again.
But this was not all. Right below the two boys was the Big Six; not
upright, but lying on its side, two wheels in the air, yet apparently
uninjured. Uttering a shout of joy at sight of the beloved car, Dave
jumped down the declivity, the irregular projections of which had
doubtless caused the Six to turn over under the reckless driving it had
been subjected to ever since it had been seized.