FRED TELLS HIS STORY
The others gazed in the direction Spouter pointed out and saw, about a
hundred feet away, Andy lying on his face in the rough roadway. As they
gazed at him they saw the youth try to rise and then fall over on his
back.
“He’s hurt!” gasped Fred.
“Yes, and I’m afraid he’s hurt pretty badly,” returned Jack.
“The skunks who did this ought to be arrested!” cried Gif.
All hurried to where Andy lay. They found him with his eyes closed and
breathing heavily. The cadets of the Colby Hall had been well drilled
in first-aid to the injured, and while Gif, Jack and Fred carried Andy
to a grassy bank by the roadside and looked him over, Spouter sped off
in the direction of the lake and presently returned with his cap and a
long thermos bottle full of water.
But even though they used the water and chafed Andy’s hands, it was a
full five minutes before he regained his senses and opened his eyes.
Even then he could not collect his thoughts and stared wildly around
him.
“It’s all right, Andy,” said Jack soothingly, as he placed his cousin’s
head and shoulders against his knees. “The auto knocked you down, but
we’ll take care of you.”
“Did――did――you――you stop the rascals?” mumbled Andy. “They ought to be
hung!”
“No, we didn’t stop them. We had to jump to save ourselves,” answered
Fred.
A little later Andy felt more like himself, and then he essayed to
get to his feet. This was a rather difficult operation and he emitted
several groans during the process. The others, however, were glad to
learn that neither of his legs was broken or seriously injured.
“The auto hit me in the hip and then when I went down the mudguard or
something scraped along my shoulder and my head,” he gasped.
“Yes, your ear and your neck have been bleeding,” said Jack. “But let’s
be thankful that no bones are broken.”
“Jack, he might have killed me!” and for once the fun-loving Rover
looked much disturbed.
“And the worst of it is that we didn’t even get the license number,”
moaned Fred.
“Well, anyway, we know it was an open touring car and that it had the
left mudguard and headlight smashed. That looks as if the car had been
in a collision before it struck Andy and that the driver was doing his
best to get away.”
“Well, he was certainly making the engine do all it could,” was Gif’s
comment.
“Gracious, I wonder where Randy is!” exclaimed Jack suddenly.
“If he was out on the road he may have been struck too!” put in Fred.
“Oh! isn’t my twin here?” put in Andy, gazing around in bewilderment.
“Gee, I’m so fussed up over this knock-down I didn’t even miss him! Was
he out on the road too?”
“You know as much about that as we do, Andy,” answered Fred. “The last
we heard from him was when you whistled and he answered.”
“Well, some of you fellows had better look for him. I can’t do it just
yet――my hip is too sore. I’ll sit down here on the grass and rest
awhile. Gosh, it will be too bad if they have struck him!”
“The rest of you look for Randy. I’ll stay with Andy,” said Gif. “I
don’t think he ought to be left just yet.”
“You’re right,” answered Jack. Then he and Fred, as well as Spouter,
hurried back on the road in the direction where they thought they might
find the missing lad.
Ten minutes later, by calling and whistling, they located Randy while
he was taking a picture of a fallen tree and some shapely rocks which
had struck his fancy.
“What’s the excitement?” he demanded, as they came up and he saw that
they were much disturbed.
“A touring car just tore along the roadway and knocked Andy down,”
answered Fred. “We were wondering if it had hit you.”
“Andy! Did it hurt him much?”
“It bumped him pretty badly on the hip and scraped his ear and neck,”
answered Jack. “But we’re all thankful that he wasn’t killed or didn’t
have some of his bones broken. He’s resting back a way on the grass and
Gif is with him.” Then, at Randy’s earnest solicitation, the others
gave him the particulars.
“They were a bunch of wild riders, all right enough,” declared Randy.
“There was a big groundhog out in the road and I was just getting ready
to take a snapshot when I heard the auto tearing along. The groundhog
sat up to listen and I was just snapping the picture when the auto tore
along and I think went right over the animal. But the groundhog limped
away and out of sight in the bushes.”
“Oh, Randy, then the auto must have swept pretty close to you!” gasped
Fred.
“I’ll say it did――it wasn’t more than four or five feet from me and
sailing along to beat the band!”
“Do you think you got a picture of the car?” questioned Jack eagerly.
“I don’t know. Maybe I did. I know I snapped the shutter of the camera,
but I was so excited over the passing of the car that I’m not sure how
I had the camera pointed. The fact is, I’m afraid the film was spoiled.”
“I hope it wasn’t spoiled,” said Fred. “It might give us some chances
to find out who was in the car and maybe get the number.”
“The car looked to me as if it was covered with dirt,” said Jack. “And
if that’s so, then the license plate would be covered with dirt too, so
the number wouldn’t show.”
Randy was anxious to see how badly his twin had been hurt, and the
crowd quickly returned to where the injured lad was resting. They found
Gif out in the roadway examining the surroundings carefully.
“I’ve got two bits of evidence that may help,” said Gif. “One is that
the touring car used two kinds of tires, those with diamond-shaped nubs
on one side and L-shaped nubs on the other. And then I picked up this
and it looks as if it had just been dropped on the road because, as you
can see, it’s perfectly clean and dry. If it had been there any length
of time it would be wet and dirty.”
The object he spoke of was a paper bag which had evidently contained
fruit, for it now held several orange and banana skins. The bag was
marked with the advertisement of a fruit dealer of Yonkers, N. Y.
“Gracious! if that car came from Yonkers it’s more than likely that it
came right up from New York City,” declared Jack.
Andy was gradually feeling more like himself, yet it was a full hour
before the boys attempted to start on the return to the hunting lodge.
“We’ll take turns carrying you if you say so,” said Jack.
“Sure we can do that!” cried Gif, and the others said the same.
“Oh, I think I can manage it alone,” declared Andy. “But of course I
can’t walk very fast.” And so the four Rovers took their time while Gif
and Spouter went on ahead to prepare supper for the crowd.
At the lodge the boys had more to work with, and Andy’s injuries were
carefully washed with warm water and then bathed with witch-hazel.
“I guess I’ll have to take it easy to-morrow,” declared the suffering
boy, as he rested on a comfortable couch. “I suppose I’ll be as stiff
as a ramrod.”
“Oh, well, if you have to stay in the lodge I’ll stay with you,”
answered his twin quickly.
“And I’ll read to you,” put in Fred. “There are a whole lot of
interesting books in this place.”
“I know what you can do, Fred,” and Andy suddenly grinned in spite
of the pain he was enduring. “You can tell us the story of the ocean
bottom.”
“Gee, that’s just what he can do!” burst out Randy.
“I’ll second the commotion on that!” came from Jack.
“Say, what in the name of striped cauliflower is all this talk about
‘ocean bottom’?” demanded Gif.
“Sounds to me as if somebody was going to stake out an underwater
city,” came from Spouter. “Maybe Fred is going to sell town lots
warranted free from malaria and mosquitoes with an extended view of
coral highways and a beautifully enameled pool for whales.”
“Say, Spouter, I know what business you ought to go into,” cried Fred.
“You ought to be a real estate agent. You’d make your fortune at it.”
“Never mind, Fred. Don’t try to switch us from the ocean bottom to real
estate,” interrupted Jack. “If you want to make Andy feel better you
just tell us about this secret you’ve been carrying on your shoulders
so long.”
“All right. If I must, I must,” answered the youngest Rover in
mock despair. “I’ll spin my little yarn after we’ve had supper and
everything is tidied up.”
“Hurrah!” shouted Randy. “Here comes the first volume of Fred’s
interesting series, entitled ‘Down on the Ocean Bottom; or, Looking for
the Lost Suspenders.’”
“Say, Fred, if this is a lost treasure you should have told us about it
before,” said Jack. “Then I could have picked out all of the savings
banks in which I should want to place my part of the loot.”
“If you’re going to make fun of it before I’ve a chance to say a word,
I won’t say anything,” declared Fred, and tried to look as if he felt
much injured.
“Oh, don’t pout, little boy,” said Spouter. “Be real good and maybe
we’ll give you an extra gingersnap for dessert.”
Even though hurt, Andy managed to eat his full share of the meal which
Gif and Spouter had prepared and which consisted largely of the fish
the crowd had caught. The others also enjoyed what was set before them,
yet it must be confessed that all of the other Rover boys, and also
their chums, were curious concerning the revelation Fred might have to
make.
“I don’t suppose any of you ever heard of Miguel Torra,” said Fred,
after everything had been put away and the whole crowd were comfortably
seated in front of the hunting lodge. “He was a Mexican revolutionist
who disappeared many years ago.”
“Say, see here, Fred, you promised to tell us about this ocean bottom
business!” interrupted Randy.
“So I did. But I can’t tell you about the ocean bottom until I get
there,” was the answer. “This Miguel Torra was not in favor with his
government at that time, and neither was he in favor with the United
States authorities. In fact, so far as my father has been able to
learn, he was little short of being an out-and-out bandit, although a
good many of his followers were simply revolutionists.”
“All right! Proceed!” put in Andy, as his cousin paused.
“Well, this Torra got together a small amount of cash and also a large
amount of jewels and gold and silverware, the results of numerous raids
made in various parts of the country and also along the Texan border.
Then, when matters got too hot for the rascal and his followers, he
journeyed to the sea coast with half a dozen of his closest comrades
and either hired or commandeered a small steam yacht called the
_Margarita_. There was a fight on the shore and the steam yacht got
away somewhat damaged. Then the yacht set sail, either for the West
Indies or for the north coast of South America.”
“Gee, this begins to sound interesting,” declared Jack.
“Don’t interrupt Fred!” cried Andy. “He’s going along slowly enough as
it is.”
“I can’t give you any of the details of what happened shortly after
that because I don’t know them,” went on the youngest Rover boy. “But I
do know there was a row on board the steam yacht and a terrible storm
came up and then the crowd tried to get back to land. The _Margarita_
was wrecked and everything on board was lost.”
“What became of Miguel Torra and his bunch?”
“It is supposed that he and all the others lost their lives. But nobody
seems to be sure of that.”
“Well, where do we come in on this, Fred?” demanded Randy.
“I’m getting to that,” answered his cousin. “Did you ever hear my dad
speak of old Captain Corning?”
“Seems to me I have,” answered Jack. “I think your father once made
some pretty good investments for the old sea dog.”
“That’s the man. My father likes him very much and thinks he’s very
reliable. Well, to cut a long story short, Captain Corning knows all
about this affair of the _Margarita_ and he’s now looking for somebody
to finance him so that he can go on a hunt for this missing yacht.”
“But if she’s at the bottom of the ocean how are you going to get to
her?” demanded Jack. “Even the best of the divers find it impossible to
get down beyond a certain depth. If they could get down as far as they
wanted to, they could raise all sorts of sunken ships and get treasures
worth billions.”
“Well, I believe that Captain Corning has his own ideas as to where the
steam yacht is located. And more than that, I think he has an idea that
if the divers can’t get down to her in their ordinary outfits they can
make use of a newly invented diving bell and reach the _Margarita_ that
way.”
“All very interesting,” declared Andy. “But where do we come in?”
“Why, we might come in this way. I say ‘might,’ because it isn’t yet
settled,” answered Fred. “But my father talked it over with me, and
he intimated that if the whole scheme looked good to him, he would
not only finance Captain Corning’s project, but he might also join the
expedition that went hunting for the lost steam yacht, and, in that
case, he might take us fellows along.”