“GONE!”
“Anything the matter?” asked Rick, as, followed by Ruddy and Chot he
hastened from the bunk room into the main apartment where the cold gray
ashes had replaced the cheerful, blazing fire of the night before.
“Anything wrong?” Chot wanted to know.
“Well, I don’t know that you could call it _wrong_,” said Mr. Campbell
with a pat on Ruddy’s head, “but our hosts seem to have disappeared! Did
you hear them go in the night?”
“Have the men left?” asked Rick.
“I don’t see any signs of them,” was the answer. “And I slept so heavily
that I didn’t hear a sound. Did either of you?”
“I thought I felt Ruddy moving around in the night,” Rick answered. “But
I didn’t wake up or hear anything.”
“Me either,” admitted Chot. “But, anyhow, it’s cleared off and we can
travel along.”
“Yes, we can travel along,” said Mr. Campbell. “I don’t believe those
men will care if I help myself to some of their coffee and grub. They
were free enough with it last night. If they come back, and object, I’ll
pay them.”
“Do you know where they have gone?” Rick wanted to know.
Mr. Campbell shook his head.
“I came out here as soon as I was up,” he explained, “and I saw no one.
Then I knocked on the door of their bunk room, but there was no answer.
I opened the door and looked in and they were gone.”
“Maybe they went out early to look up some trees,” suggested Chot.
“What do you mean—look up trees?” asked Rick. “Do you mean to look and
see if there’s a bear to shoot?”
“No, I mean about cutting some lumber,” explained Chot.
“Oh,” exclaimed his chum. “I see.”
“It’s possible they did that,” said Mr. Campbell. “Of course they have a
right to do as they please, but they might have left a note or something
to say they’d be back. But it’s their business, I reckon. And I’m going
to see what sort of a breakfast I can get.”
“We’ll help,” offered Rick and Chot.
Coffee was soon boiling on the stove, and bacon was sizzling in the pan.
By rummaging further in a pantry Mr. Campbell found some prepared flour
and, declaring that he was a master-hand at turning flapjacks, he proved
it by setting before the boys two plates of delicately-browned pancakes.
“There’s even maple syrup, or what passes for it, to eat on them,” he
said, producing a sticky brown bottle.
“Oh, boy!” cried Rick.
“Can’t beat this—not even at home!” declared Chot, and they kept Mr.
Campbell busy over the frying pan which he used in place of a pancake
griddle. He did not neglect himself, however, and soon all three—no, all
four, for Ruddy was not forgotten—had eaten a good breakfast.
“Well, since our friends don’t seem to be coming back, we’ll have to
write a note and express our thanks for their hospitality,” said Mr.
Campbell, after the meal. “Then we’ll start off again, but I don’t
imagine we’ll make very good time until we get on the main road. This
rain must have made more mud puddles than usual.”
“We’ll wash the dishes while you’re writing the note,” suggested Rick,
for, like all Boy Scouts, he had been taught to leave a place as he
found it, and the dishes were clean in the cupboard at the start of
breakfast.
There was a tank of warm water connected with the stove, and the dishes
were soon being given a sort of rough-and-ready bath. But campers are
never fussy—if they were they wouldn’t be campers.
“There, this will thank them for having taken us in,” said Mr. Campbell,
as he finished the note to the three men. “I’ll leave it on the table
where they’ll see it when they come back. I’ve given them my address in
San Francisco,” he added, “and if they want to send us a bill for
breakfast I’ll settle it later. But I don’t believe they will. Now I’ll
go out and get the car.”
The shed was out of sight behind the shack, and the boys waited a few
minutes in front of the cabin to hear the hum of the motor as the
self-starter turned it over.
But no such hum sounded and Rick and Chot, who were playing with Ruddy,
paused in their fun after a few minutes, looking at each other while
Rick said:
“Must have trouble getting her going.”
“Cold after the rain, maybe,” suggested Chot.
“Or there might be water in the carburetor,” said Rick.
They were about to walk around the shack to see if they could be of any
help in turning on the ignition, as Mr. Campbell might have to crank the
car, when they saw their friend coming around the path that led from the
cabin to the shed.
“Boys, did you hear the auto being taken out in the night?” he asked.
“The auto taken?” cried Rick. “No!”
“Isn’t it there?” asked Chot.
“No,” answered Mr. Campbell.
“Where is it?” cried the boys.
“Gone!”
“Gone?”
“Stolen, I reckon,” said the owner grimly, “and I think I can guess who
took it.”
“You mean the three men who were here?” asked Rick.
“I’m afraid so—yes. That’s why they sneaked off so quietly. They wanted
to get away in my car. All our stuff gone, too! The car’s insured but
there’s my baggage, and yours, and a lot of valuable documents and a
patent model I was taking to San Francisco.”
“Whew!” whistled Rick, and Ruddy came running up wondering what his
young master wanted, for the whistle sounded like a signal.
“What are you going to do?” asked Chot.
“We’ll have to take after them,” said Mr. Campbell. “I can’t let them
get away with my things like this! And I must get back your baggage,
also. That’s the time we slept too soundly, lads! Those scoundrels just
sneaked out when we were in dreamland and took our car. Well, there’s no
use staying here. We’ll have to walk to the nearest town and let the
police know about the robbery. They must have some telephones and
telegraph lines out here, and maybe we can head off the thieves.”
“How could they get the car out without starting it up?” asked Rick.
“Your motor makes quite a noise when it starts, Mr. Campbell, and I
should think we’d have heard it.”
“That’s just it—they didn’t start the motor,” was the reply.
“Then how’d they run it off?”
“They just took off the brake and let her coast down hill,” was the
answer. “There’s a hill leading up into the shed. I noticed it when I
went in last night. All they had to do was to let the car roll down
hill—it would coast all the way to the road, I think. And that was far
enough off so that when they turned on the ignition, as the car was
still moving, she started without the racket she usually makes. Come and
I’ll show you.”
He indicated to the boys the marks of the tires in the soft ground—marks
that showed where Mr. Campbell had driven in, and then where the car had
been pushed out, steered down to the road under gravity and finally
driven off.
“Hard luck, but there’s no use worrying,” said Mr. Campbell, who was a
sort of optimistic philosopher. “We’ll just have to take after
’em—that’s all.”
“Maybe we can trace the car by the tire tracks,” said Rick. “There
aren’t many cars out this way, Mr. Campbell.”
“Yes, perhaps we can, Rick. Well, let’s get started.”
They headed away from the shed, aiming to pass around the cabin and take
to the road. But, as they filed along the path, with Ruddy running
ahead, Chot suddenly called:
“I hear a car coming!”
“Maybe they are coming back,” suggested Rick.
They pressed forward eagerly.