There were three men in that car and as soon as they caught up with us,
I knew they were sheriffs or detectives or something like that, on
account of their being big and kind of bossy looking.
They got out and came up to our car and one of them said, very loud and
gruff, “What are you doing with that car?”
“Why, we’re just sitting in it laughing,” Harry said. “Here’s another;
why is a Ford like a poisonous snake? Give it up? Because it has a
rattle. Let’s tell some more.”
“Who was that you throwed out of this car?” the man shouted right in
Harry’s face. All the while the other two men were down in the ditch
looking for the dummy. I guess it must have gone down in the water,
anyway, they couldn’t find it.
Harry said, “Oh, that was really your fault; should be more careful when
you shoot at random. That was a very famous personage—Mr. R. T.
Sandbanks.”
Gee, I could hardly keep a straight face. The men just stood there
staring, and Harry just sat there with his arms folded on the steering
wheel, smiling just as nice as could be. Poor little Skinny was clinging
to his arm. Pee-wee and Grove and I sat on the back seat trying not to
laugh. Those men looked at us as if they thought it was funny for boy
scouts to be there, but we should worry about them. Our consciences were
clear, only we were hungry.
“Look here, you,” the big man said to Harry; “you got to explain your
movements—and your actions.”
“Our actions can’t be explained,” Harry said; “we’re all crazy. But
anything we can do to accommodate you——”
All the while the other two men were poking around in the creek with
sticks. The big man shook his finger right in Harry’s face and said,
“You’re the feller that was in Wade’s Hotel in Utica with a car with a
New York license. You were seen there. You had some stolen property in
that car. You’ve changed your license plate since then. Been in Crystal
Falls ain’t you? Get out of there, you kids, and let me look under that
seat. What are you doing with a crowd of young boys in this car,
anyway?”
Harry said, “My goodness, what a lot of questions! You’re a regular
questionnaire, aren’t you? Get up, boys.”
We got up and he dug around under the back seat, but didn’t find
anything. Then he dug in the side pockets and, good night, there were
our “papers” as Pee-wee called them.
He said, “What’s all this, eh?”
Harry said, “Those? Oh, those are just some papers. One of them is a
letter, and let’s see, those two are newspaper articles and the other is
a description of a tree. Do you like trees? We’re crazy about trees.”
Oh, boy, you should have seen that man. He read those papers over and
scowled. “Train robbed, huh?” he said. “Shootin’ goin’ on, huh? Now, who
are you, anyway, and who did you throw out of this car, and where did
you get this car, and where did you get this here license plate that
you’re using?”
Harry said, “Well, it’s a long story and really it would be a shame to
tell it, unless we were all sitting around the camp-fire. We’re a band
of adventurers and we’re on our way to see what will happen next. Our
specialties are murder, burglary, treasure hunting and food, when we can
get it. Going to be warm to-day, don’t you think so?”
Honest, that man hardly knew what to say, he was so flabbergasted. I
guess he must have felt like Alice in Wonderland, hey? With men being
thrown out and disappearing and nice little boy scouts instead of
burglars, and papers that he couldn’t make out the meaning of at all. He
just looked around kind of puzzled, and all the while Harry sat there
with his arms folded on the wheel—oh, boy, I could hardly keep a
straight face.
Pretty soon the man said, “Well, young feller, you got to give an
explanation of your whereabouts. You were seen in Utica with this car
and you had some valuables in it. A porter in the hotel seen them under
the seat. You went away and later passed through Utica with this same
car. And what did you do with that stuff? And where’d you get your plate
changed? Just let’s see your card.”
Harry showed him his driver’s card. Gee whiz, I wanted Harry to tell him
that scouts don’t get mixed up with burglaries and things like that, but
he didn’t bother to tell him anything. I guess he thought that anybody
ought to know that much. Cracky, I wouldn’t be a burglar.
Then he walked all around the car, sizing it up; I guess he was hunting
for some kind of clews or other. Then he whispered with the other men.
And all the while, Harry just sat there smiling.
I said, “Why, don’t you tell them how it was?”
“They wouldn’t believe us,” Harry said; “don’t you know you can’t tell a
detective anything? You’ve got to let him crack his head against a stone
wall.”
“Will we get put in jail?” Skinny asked.
“Guess not,” Harry said; “my one regret is, that Brent isn’t here. He’d
enjoy this. Evidently these fellows belong in Utica and they’re a little
behind on their information. I rather prefer our old friend, the
constable.”
Pretty soon the big man left the other two poking around in the water,
and came over and said, “I’ll ride into Lurin with you. You’ll have to
go before a justice you fellers. You got to explain your movements. Was
that man you threw out of the car, dead?”
Harry said, “Oh, very dead. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody so dead
before.”
“Well, then, you killed him,” the man said; “’twasn’t no shot of ours.
How’d that man come by his death, huh?”
“He was thrown off a cliff,” Harry said.
“Well, we’ll find out who threw him off,” the man said.
Harry said, “Oh, that’s easy; fifteen cents and the war tax, and you’ll
know the whole story. Climb over in back Alf, and let this gentleman sit
here.”
Just then one of the other men came dragging poor Mr. Ragtime Sandbanks
after him. He looked awful silly—I mean the man. The poor old dummy was
all soaked and his legs and arms flopped this way and that. Harry
looked, but didn’t seem especially interested.
“So that’s it, is it?” the big man said.
“That’s it,” Harry said.
“_A dummy!_” the man just what-do-you-call-it—you know—_ejaculated_.
“Oh, don’t call yourself names,” Harry said.
_Jimmetty_, you should have seen that man.