CHAPTER XXX.
A LETTER AND A SNAKE.
Our hero was already on his bicycle, and Roy had no cause to complain about the time made in returning to the vicinity of the old well. As a matter of fact, Joe fairly flew down the highway and he had all he could do to keep up with him.
The spot reached, they dismounted and commenced a search which lasted nearly an hour, covering every foot of ground for fifty feet around. They even lit a bit of paper and threw it into the well, that they might see if the envelope had dropped into the water. It was all of no avail; the communication could not be found.
Joe walked back to the road with a very white face. What would his father say to this?
“It’s too bad,” said Roy Crossley. “Let us ride back slowly to where we rested. It may be lying somewhere on the way.”
“I ought to have put it into an inside pocket, Roy. Father cautioned me to do that, but I forgot.”
On this point Roy could give no comfort, and in silence they turned forward again, our hero on one side of the road and his chum on the other.
They had almost reached the spot where they had been resting when Roy uttered a shout.
“There is the letter, over by that rock!”
He pointed to one side. Both looked in that direction, and an instant later gave a yell of fright.
“A snake! And on the letter!”
It was true. A brown reptile nearly three feet long had come out of his hole to sun himself, and his head rested directly upon the communication.
Both boys rode past and then dismounted. As they did this the snake gave an angry hiss which made them retreat in double-quick time. Joe picked up a stone and Roy a stick.
For a moment the reptile held its ground, and the lads thought they would have a lively and decidedly unwelcome fight. But as the stick and stone were raised the snake turned and like a flash disappeared behind a rock.
Joe’s heart beat loudly as he picked up the letter, and he brushed it off with great care and even then handled it gingerly. Both boys were so preoccupied that they did not notice the presence of a little girl who had walked up.
“Why didn’t you kill the snake?” she remarked. “I wouldn’t have let him get away from me.”
“It’s easy to talk,” returned Roy coldly. “A snake is not a nice thing to handle.”
“Huh! My little brother killed one yesterday twice as long as that,” she replied disdainfully.
“Can’t you tell us how far we are from Mr. Franshaw’s house?” asked Joe, to change the subject.
The girl told them, glancing curiously at the letter in the meantime. “Is that for him?” she questioned.
“Yes.”
“Well, if you want to catch him this morning you’ll have to hurry. I just came from his place and I heard him tell his man that he was going to start for Northfield in a little while, and by what he said I guess he’s going to stay there a couple of days.”
“Then we will have to hurry,” replied Joe. “I am much obliged to you for the information,” he added.
“I’ve never been out Northfield way,” observed Roy, as they pedaled along as rapidly as possible. “Do you know anything about the roads?”
“I was up there once in a wagon,” replied our hero. “I hope we catch Mr. Franshaw before he starts.”
They went through the town of Independence at a rapid rate—so rapid Roy was afraid they might be arrested for fast riding—and struck out on the side road leading to Mr. Franshaw’s residence. The two miles were quickly covered, and, dismounting, Joe hurried up to a side door and knocked loudly. There was no response.
A man who had seen them from a near-by field approached. He proved to be one of Mr. Franshaw’s hired men.
“Yes, Mr. Franshaw left for Northfield about half an hour ago,” he said, in reply to Joe’s question.
“On foot?”
“Oh, no, he had a team with some furniture he sold to a man in Northfield. You see since his wife died he ain’t got no use for the stuff, and he’s thinking of selling out altogether and moving down to Greenpoint.”
“Perhaps we can catch him if he has a heavy load,” remarked Roy. “Let’s try it.”
“We can catch him at Northfield anyway; that is, if the roads are good enough for bicycling,” returned our hero. “Which way did he go?”
“Right straight down this road till you come to the creek,” said the hired man. “Then take the road to the left until you get around the hill, and then take the road to the right. You might catch him if you are good riders.”
“And the roads?”
“Well, they ain’t the best, but I reckon they’re good enough. You may have to do a bit of walking here and there.”
“Come ahead!” cried Joe, and in a second more he was off, with Roy in his wake. A turn of the road and Mr. Franshaw’s residence was left behind, and they were started on a journey destined to be full of excitement and surprises.
On and on they sped as fast as the country road would admit, gradually climbing the hill to the other side. At the creek they took the turn the man had mentioned and pedaled along a smooth way lined on either side with dense woods.
“Hullo, look!” cried Roy, who had spurted ahead. “A gypsy camp!”
“Sure enough, Roy! They have four wagons, and look, at least a dozen horses.”
“Rather a tough-looking crowd, ain’t they?”
Joe agreed that they were. There were six men visible, lying around a flat rock, smoking and playing cards. Besides the men there were two women, who were washing clothes and cooking, and half a dozen ragged and dirty children. The children shouted at them, but they paid no attention as they swept past.
“How folks can live in that style gets me,” commented Roy. “Ugh! those men looked like the brigands of Italy you see pictured in books.”
“I guess they are not above stealing chickens, and even horses,” replied Joe. “But hurry up, for if I am not mistaken it is going to rain before night. Don’t you notice how close it is and how glary the sunshine is getting?”
The second turn was reached and before them was a straight stretch of a mile and a half. Looking far ahead they saw a wagon lumbering along at a lively gait.
“That must be Mr. Franshaw’s,” ejaculated Joe. “Hurry up and see!”
He spurted and so did Roy, and the wagon was reached before it had proceeded a quarter of a mile. True enough it belonged to the man they were seeking, who sat on the seat calmly smoking his brier root pipe.
“Hullo, Joe Johnson, what are you doing away up here?” he cried, as the youth came alongside. “A pretty long and rough ride from your home.”
“I’ve got a letter for you,” answered our hero. “Here it is. I was at your home and your man directed me how I could follow you.”
The team was stopped and the communication examined.
“I’m mighty glad you came after me,” said Mr. Franshaw. “I wouldn’t want to have missed this for a good deal. I was going to stay at Northfield until to-morrow, but I’ll come back as soon as this furniture is delivered. You can tell your father I’ll be on hand and will take up with that offer if Mr. Burns indorses the notes.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And if you boys want to get home with dry backs I advise you to hurry up. It’s going to storm in a little while,” added the man.
He whipped up his team and left them where they had dismounted. Joe was about to follow Roy in mounting when he suddenly changed his mind.
“I’m as hungry as a bear,” he said. “Let us tackle our lunch first. That will rest us and we can make home in a jiffy, for it’s more down hill than up.”
Roy, too, was hungry, and readily agreed to his companion’s plan. They found a convenient resting place, near a spring where they could obtain water, and soon both were munching the sandwiches and cake with which their folks had provided them.
It felt so agreeable to rest and to eat that they spent a much longer time in the spot than at first anticipated, and it was not until a low rumble of distant thunder startled them that they both leaped to their feet.
“The storm is coming up!” cried Roy. “See how black the sky is getting! Come on, there’s not a minute to waste!”
He crammed the last of his cake into his mouth and leaped into the saddle. Joe did the same, and away they went in the direction of the creek and the gypsy camp beyond.
Scarcely a quarter of a mile had been covered when it began to rain. At first the drops came down scatteringly, but soon a perfect deluge seemed to descend upon them.