Conversation ceased during the remainder of the ride. The silence was broken two or three times by George, who was driving the car as he looked behind him at his companions and laughed aloud. No response was given to his implied invitations to describe their feelings and as they came nearer the end of their journey the chagrin under which all three boys were suffering became still more marked.
At last when they were once more in the house, Fred, unable longer to remain silent, said abruptly, “I know there isn’t anything in the racket at the old Meeker House, but in spite of it all I confess I’m scared when I hear those strange sounds.”
“What are you afraid of?” laughed George.
“I don’t know what I’m afraid of,” said Fred, “but it scares me half out of my wits.”
“There’s something very strange about it,” broke in John. “I don’t believe in spooks and such things, but no one has told us yet what the sound of those flying wings means and they haven’t explained how a fellow can get in there and hear his name called from seven different parts of the house at the same time.”
“What about that horn?” inquired Grant. “That’s the strangest part of it all to me.”
“Do you know,” said Fred, “I’m sure that horn that blows in the old house is the one that used to be on George’s car.”
“No, it can’t be,” said George. “There’s nothing but ghosts in the Meeker House and so it could be only the ghost of that horn if there really is anything there.”
“Well, it isn’t the ghost of a sound,” declared John positively. “It’s a real noise let me tell you and when you hear it as I did to-night, first right close to your ear, and then, a second or two later, sounding as if it came from the attic or the cellar you’re ready to believe almost anything.”
“Too ready, I’m afraid,” laughed George.
“The next time we go there,” spoke up Fred, “I move that George Sanders be selected to go into the house by the front door. If you remember, fellows, he has always slipped out every time we went there and gone around to the kitchen door.”
“I believe he knows more about it than he has told us yet,” declared John.
“All I know,” said George solemnly, “is that some of the Go Ahead boys have reversed their name. Whenever they pluck up courage enough to go to the old house they always go there with fear and trembling. They walk as if they were traveling to their own funeral, but when they leave they make better time than I ever saw any of them make on the cinder path. I think that we ought to change the name. They aren’t Go Ahead boys any more, they are the Go Backward or the Get Away boys.”
“I notice,” spoke up Grant, “that you didn’t stand very long in the way of your own departure. At least I haven’t noticed yet that you have been very far behind any of us when we ran from the place.”
“Of course you haven’t,” said George. “I have to look after my guests, don’t I? And if they are in such a hurry to leave, it wouldn’t be very polite for me to stay.”
“Don’t leave on our account,” said Fred dryly.
“I guess there isn’t much danger that you wouldn’t any other time,” laughed George. “Perhaps you don’t need any help after all. I was just trying to be polite.”
“It’s too great an effort,” said Fred. “Don’t try it again, but what are you going to do about that stolen car?”
“I’m going ahead,” replied George.
“You certainly have a strange way of doing it then,” retorted Fred. “It seems to me you were going all around it.”
“Never you mind,” said George. “We’ll have that car back in our garage in less than a week, you mark my words and see if we don’t.”
“If we do,” declared Grant, “it won’t be any fault of ours. I guess your father will be the one that will find it.”
“He will help,” laughed George.
“Help,” repeated Fred. “If we keep up the idiotic kind of a search we made to-day I guess he will have to do the whole thing.”
“Perhaps he will,” admitted George. “I’m not jealous. If we can only get that car back, that’s about all I want.”
“Well, I’m going to bed,” declared John. “This has been my busy day.”
“And you haven’t told us yet what you were doing,” suggested Grant.
“I guess I don’t have to tell you,” said John. “All three of you seem to know more about Uncle Sim and me and what we have been doing to-day than we do ourselves.”
In a brief time the boys had withdrawn from the room and sought their beds.
The following morning when three of the Go Ahead boys went down stairs they discovered George talking over the telephone.
“Yes,” he was saying. “That’s all right. We’ll start right after breakfast. Thank you very much. Good-by.”
As he hung up the receiver George turned to his friends and said, “What would you fellows say if I told you that I had some word about the car?”
“We would all say that it was a good word, anyway,” said Fred promptly.
“I was just talking to my father who told me that he had received a telegram this morning from Newburgh.”
“That’s in New York State,” spoke up Fred.
“Correct,” answered George. “I’m glad that for once in your life you are correctly informed.”
“You want to be thankful,” retorted Fred, “that once in your life you were able to appreciate the information I possess. I haven’t a stingy thing about me, and I have been trying to be generous and give you some of the knowledge I have acquired, after long and painful effort, but you do not seem to appreciate my kind heart.”
“My father says that the best thing for us to do will be to take the old car and go straight to Newburgh. We may have to stay all night, so you had better go prepared.”
“We aren’t going before breakfast, are we?” demanded Grant.
“No, my lean and hungry friend, we’ll wait until the wants of the inner man are satisfied.”
“Not that,” said Fred. “Not that. You mean you will wait long enough for him to eat all he needs, but not all he wants. We aren’t going to start from here before sunset, if you don’t mean that.”
Conversation was not as brisk after the boys entered the dining room, but when their breakfast had been eaten and they followed George as he led the way to the garage they were all as talkative as before.
“Going to take Uncle Sim with you?” inquired Grant.
“No,” answered George. “I’ll have to leave him to look after the place!”
“How long before we start?” inquired John.
“About three minutes. Are you going with us to-day?”
“You’re right I am,” declared John. “I stayed home yesterday to make my own investigations in the old Meeker House.”
“And you have finished them all?” inquired George with a laugh.
“I can’t say that the investigations are all finished, but I am. Yes, sir, I’m done. You don’t catch me alone in that old house again.”
“But I thought Uncle Sim went with you,” suggested Fred.
“Uncle Sim? Uncle Sim? I would rather have an infant in arms with me. Uncle Sim was scared before we were inside the house and after that everything he saw or heard all helped to scare him still more.”
“He surely was scared last night,” laughed Fred as he recalled the plight of the aged negro.
“He was that,” said John solemnly, “but the worst of it is he scared me too. You know they say that a man doesn’t run because he’s scared, he’s scared because he runs. I don’t know much about that, but I guess it worked both ways with me. I know I was scared before I ran and I know I was scared a good deal worse after I began to run.”
“Never mind, John,” said George, “We’ll have a fine ride to-day. We’re going up through Ramapo Valley, through that place my father was telling you about where young Montagnie was taken prisoner so many years ago by the cowboys.”
“I hope there won’t be anybody there to make prisoners of us,” declared Grant solemnly. “Do you ever have any hold-ups there now?”
“Not every day,” explained George.
“What do you mean by that?” demanded Grant as he turned sharply upon George.
“Just what I say,” repeated George.
“You don’t really think we’ll have any trouble, do you?” inquired Fred anxiously.
“I cannot say,” said George slowly. “There comes a gentleman now who belongs to the fraternity. Perhaps he can tell you more about it than I.” As he spoke the three boys glanced quickly toward the kitchen door. Approaching it was a man who bore every indication of being a tramp.
“Hold on, fellows,” whispered Fred, excitedly, “that’s the very same tramp I met over in the old Meeker House.”
“Sure about that?” asked George quickly.
“Yes, it’s the same man.”
“Come on, then,” said George, “We’ll go up and interview him.”
The tramp now was seated on the stone step and hungrily was devouring the breakfast which had been given him.
“How long since you have been in the old Meeker House?” inquired Fred as he approached the stranger.
As the man looked up he recognized his companion of the former night and a smile spread over his countenance. “I just came from there,” he said.
“Were you in the house all night?” demanded Fred quickly.
“Yes. Why?”
“Did you hear any strange sounds?”
“Not one.”
“Didn’t you see anything that scared you?”
“No, sir, nothing scared me.”
“And you say you were there all night?”
“That’s what I say. I crawled in there right after sunset and went to sleep. I told you the other night that I sometimes sleep there in my travels.”
“I don’t understand why you didn’t hear anything,” said John, “if you really were in the house. I was there and I heard some things.”
“What?” The tramp paused in his occupation and stared blankly at John as he spoke.
“The same things that happen there every night. There were some creatures flying all around the room—”
“Ostriches,” said the tramp soberly.
“And there must have been a good many people there too because they called me by my name and at the same time from every part of the house.”
“A part of Washington’s army,” said the tramp.
“I don’t know who they were, but the thing that scared me most of all was the tooting of an automobile horn. First it sounded right close to my ear and then it seemed to come from all parts of the house at once.”
“Nothing but the wind whistling around the eaves,” said the tramp. “I don’t mind telling you though that there have been times when I have heard sounds over there that made me think of the horn of an auto—”
“Didn’t you hear it last night?” demanded John.
“No. Where are you boys going?” the tramp abruptly added.
“We’re going to look for a lost automobile,” said Fred. “You haven’t seen one lately, have you?”
“Did you lose a car?” inquired the tramp, ignoring the question.
“We certainly have lost it,” said George, “or rather somebody has taken it.”
“And you know where it is now?”
“We’ve got word where it may be and we’re going to find out.”
Fred had been watching the tramp closely throughout the conversation and when George abruptly turned back to the garage he instantly followed him.
“I tell you,” exclaimed Fred in a low voice as soon as he had overtaken his friend, “that tramp knows more about the lost automobile than he told us.”
George turned abruptly and for a moment stared blankly at his friend and then laughed aloud. “I think you surely have got it,” he said. “A fellow who can find spooks and ghosts of automobiles ought to be able to find out a man who will steal them. That tramp to me doesn’t look as if he had ever seen the inside of a car.”
“It doesn’t make any difference,” said Fred persistently. “I tell you he knows more about that car than you think.”
“What makes you think so?”
“The way he looked and acted when we were talking about the auto having been stolen.”
“Did he look guilty?”
“I don’t know whether he did or not. He looked up right away and the expression on his face was different from what it was before. He knows something about it anyway, whether he took it or not.”
“Keep it up, Fred,” laughed George. “Pretty soon you’ll be able to run down every man who has seen our car, to say nothing of those who took it.”
“What do you advise me to do?” he continued.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s just it,” laughed George. “There are lots of people that can tell you what ought to be done, but there are mighty few that can tell you how to do it. Do you want me to have him arrested?”
“I didn’t say that,” said Fred. “All I said to you was that he knows more about it than you think he does. It seems to me it would be a good thing to have some one watch him or to leave word with the constable.”
“What will the constable do? He can’t invite him to his house.”
“No, but he can tell him he mustn’t leave town, can’t he?”
“I don’t think he could without a warrant or something. You can’t arrest a man merely on suspicion.”
“All the same,” said Fred, “I think you’ll find that he knows more about that lost car than any one else.”
“Well,” said George, “he doesn’t seem to be leaving the country very rapidly and if we hear of him riding around in a brand new automobile we’ll begin to ask some questions. Now, the thing for us to do is to start on our trip and see if there’s anything in the report my father has received about the lost car having been found in Newburgh.”
A few minutes later the four boys were on their way toward the beautiful little city on the Hudson.
A ride of between forty and fifty miles was before them and they had not gone far on their journey before they were more deeply interested in the sights and scenes they were passing than in the pursuit of the car which had been lost.
While they were riding through the Ramapo Valley they tried to discover the place where young Montagnie had had his troubles with the cowboys who had stopped him. Other stories of heroic deeds by the colonists in the struggle for independence were told by George and Grant and the time passed so rapidly that when the car stopped at Suffern, where the boys were to have their luncheon, with one accord they declared that the ride had been the most enjoyable in all their experience.
Early in the afternoon the ride was resumed and such excellent time was made that by half past three o’clock they had arrived at the end of their journey.
Their car was placed in a garage and then the boys at once went to a hotel where they were to remain that night, for it had been decided that they would not return until the following morning, whether their lost car was found or not.
“Come on, fellows,” said George a half-hour afterward, “we’ll go down to the garage and see if our car is there.”
Down the hillside on the steep street that led to the bank of the Hudson the boys made their way, frequently commenting on the experiences people of Newburgh must have in winter-time, when ice and snow were to be found on the streets.
George explained that at that time ropes were stretched along the sidewalk to protect the people who tried to pass up or down the slippery way.
“Here we are,” explained George a little later as they stopped in front of a large garage. “Come on in. We’ll know what out fate is in a few minutes.”
Entering the garage George inquired for the manager and soon was in conversation with a young man, who at once became deeply interested in the boys and in the story they were telling him. At last he said, “The car you are talking about is back here in the corner. Come with me and I’ll show it to you.”
Eagerly following the manager the boys soon stopped in front of the car which he indicated. “You see,” explained the young man, “this car has recently been painted. It has a Pennsylvania license, but that could be very easily obtained for they could run over across the Pennsylvania line and then come up into New York State. There are some other changes that have been made, but I want you to look at it and tell me whether or not you think it is the car you have lost.”
“I don’t think it is,” said George promptly.
“Better look at it more closely,” said the manager. “Sometimes these cars are created the way they used to tell me the gypsies did when I was a boy. You know they used to scare us by telling us that the gypsies stole children and then they fixed them up so that their own mothers wouldn’t recognize them.”
“How did they do that?” inquired John.
“Oh, I don’t know. I suppose they cut their hair, painted their faces and dressed them up in some outlandish clothes. Well, that’s the way these men that steal automobiles sometimes do. They fix them up so that their owners wouldn’t recognize the cars as theirs.”
A further and careful investigation of the car was made but it was not long before George said positively, “That isn’t our car.”
“You’re sure, are you?” again inquired the manager.
“Yes, sir. I’m sure. The engine isn’t like ours. There are more spokes in the wheels and the hood is different. No, I’m sure it’s not our car.”
George’s disappointment was manifest in the tones of his voice and his friends naturally shared in his feelings.
“Was that car stolen?” inquired Fred.
“We suspect that it was,” replied the manager. “We have had half a dozen inquiries recently about stolen cars and though I cannot tell you more we have reason to believe that this is one of them. My advice to you is to stop on your way back home at a garage managed by Egge and Hatch.”
“What are their names?” demanded Grant blankly.
“Egge and Hatch,” repeated the manager. “I know another automobile concern which is run by Waite and Barrett.”
“Wait and Bear-it,” laughed Fred. “That’s a good name. That would do for a lot of other concerns besides garages, wouldn’t it?”
“It would be a better name for the men who leave their automobiles there to be repaired,” suggested Grant.
The boys were now convinced that the car they had inspected was not the one they had lost. There was nothing more to be done unless they visited every garage in the city.
“And I don’t think there will be much use even in that, just now,” suggested the manager.
“Come on then, fellows, we’ll go back to the hotel,” said George.
“But I don’t want to go back to the hotel,” said Grant. “I want to go somewhere else.”
“Do you know where it is?” demanded John. “I’ve known you when you started for some place that you didn’t know, nor did any one else.”
“I know exactly where I want to go,” said Grant pompously. “If you fellows want to come with me it will do you good, but if you don’t you can do what you please. I have never been in Newburgh before and while I am here I am going to take advantage of the opportunity.”
“All right, we’ll go with you,” said Fred glibly. “If you can find anything that is going to improve you we want to come along and see the show.”
Unknown to his friends Grant had made some inquiries concerning a spot in Newburgh which he long had been desirous of seeing. Without explaining to his companions what he had in mind he quickly led the way up another hill until they arrived at a large enclosed yard. In the midst of it stood a low old stone house. In front of the house, on the extensive lawn, were several piles of cannon balls, and cannon were looking out over the peaceful waters of the Hudson. The flag of the United States was floating from the high flagpole and added much to the beauty of the scene.
“What’s all this?” demanded John.
“Every young American is supposed to know that this is Washington’s headquarters. Didn’t you ever hear of it?”
“He had so many,” laughed John, “I can’t keep track of them. It is something like the beds he slept in that we were talking about the other day.”
“Well, this is where he had his headquarters,” said Grant, “when his army was in this part of the country. This is a beautiful spot, isn’t it?”
“It’s wonderful!” said Fred in a low voice. The impulsive lad was deeply impressed by the associations connected with the place where they then were standing as well as by the marvelous scene of the Hudson winding its way in and out through the midst of the towering hills.
“Over yonder,” said Grant, pointing across the river as he spoke, “is Beacon and right across the river is Fishkill.”
“Good name,” said John in a low voice.
“Of course it is,” said Grant. “We’re in the Empire State. That’s the State I live in and there isn’t another one like it in the Union.”
“That’s right,” said George, who felt that he was now called upon to defend his own State. “New York has a choice collection. I don’t say that there aren’t some good people here, but you don’t have to go very far to come to Ossining. Do you know who lives there?”
“Yes, some undesirable citizens,” said Grant.
“Yes, and you go on a little farther up the river and you come to Albany. If you want to know what New York State is like you want to find out how much the capitol building there cost.”
“Never mind about those things,” broke in John. “What I want to know is about this part of the country where we are now. I have read a good many stories about the American army when it was in camp at Peekskill.”
“Of course you have,” said Grant; “there were a lot of things doing there. I have a book at home that my great-grandfather used to read when he was a boy. It tells about a young fellow only seventeen years of age who was one of Washington’s couriers. He used to ride between Morristown and Lake Champlain. At least he did in the year when Burgoyne was trying to bring his Hessians and redcoats from Montreal to New York.”
“He didn’t bring them, though,” spoke up Fred quickly.
“Only as far as Saratoga,” laughed Grant. “If it hadn’t been for certain obstacles I guess he would have brought them all the way down the river.”
“I guess he would too,” laughed Fred scornfully, “but his ‘obstacles,’ as you call them, were General Gates, Philip Schuyler, Benedict Arnold and a few other continental soldiers that did not seem to be enthusiastic over allowing Johnnie Burgoyne to come any farther.”
“I was reading the other day,” said Grant, “that the Baroness de Reidesel was with her husband when the Hessians were captured. She had her children with her and to show them due honor Mrs. General Schuyler took the Baroness and her children into her own home. The Hessian lady did not know that Mrs. Schuyler understood German and she rudely carried on some conversation with her children in that language when Mrs. Schuyler was present. One time one of the children piped up and asked his mother, ‘Isn’t this the place that we are to have when our father is made a duke after he has whipped the Yankees?’ As the Baroness glanced up she was aware that Mrs. Schuyler had understood what the boy was saying. She tried to apologize but Mrs. Schuyler was a perfect lady and at once smoothed things out. They say she was a brave woman. There’s one story about her though that I never believed.”
“What was that?” asked John.
“Why they say that thirteen was a magical number for the Americans. The British reported that Martha Washington had a big cat with thirteen stripes around its tail and that she wouldn’t have any other kind. There were just thirteen of the colonies, you know, and that made it worse. And it was reported that General Phil. Schuyler had just thirteen hairs left in his bald pate and that Mrs. Catherine Schuyler very carefully oiled and brushed them every night for fear that the magic number might be changed.”
“She had better brush his hair than pull it,” suggested George.
“I can remember the time,” said John, “when my mother used to brush and pull my hair at the same time.”
“So can I,” said every one of the boys together.
“Well, the main thing is,” said Fred philosophically, “that George Washington had some headquarters and that it’s a good thing for the United States of America that he did. I wish we had some men now as great as he was.”
“We have,” said John quickly.
“We have?” retorted Fred scornfully. “Where are they?”
“Eight here,” said John solemnly. “Here are four of them. They haven’t all arrived yet, but they are on their way.”
“Fine lot too,” broke in Grant. “Scared so that they run like deer when they hear sounds in the old Meeker House and there isn’t one of them that has shown that he has the nerve to stay there long enough to find out just what those strange sounds mean.”
“We’re not afraid of anything we can see, but it is the things that you can’t see that scare us,” explained Fred.
“Never mind the Meeker House,” said Grant, “I want to take in what this place means. The old cannon balls, the old guns, and the relics we saw inside the house,” for the boys had entered the old building and inspected the various relics of revolutionary times that were on exhibition, “to say nothing about the old Hudson River itself, and the hills, ought to satisfy every one of us for a while, anyway.”
“It’s a great sight,” said George. “I’m glad you brought us up here. I knew Washington’s headquarters were here, but it had slipped my mind when we first came. I’m getting hungry. Come on back to the hotel and we’ll have our dinner.”
The following morning was unusually warm. The boys were early awake, but even then the heat was oppressive.
“Whew,” said Fred when they left the dining room, “if it’s as hot as this before we start what will it be afterward?”
“That’s just like some people,” declared John. “They aren’t satisfied with the good or the bad they have, but they are always looking ahead for more. There’s one thing we don’t have to do.”
“What’s that?” inquired Fred.
“We don’t have to swelter before the sun beats down upon us. It will be plenty of time to see what we have to do if we find it so warm on the road that we don’t want to go on.”
Soon after breakfast the boys started on their homeward ride.
True to its promise the heat steadily increased and a glare that was exceedingly trying to the eyes beat down upon the roadway.
George increased the speed at which he was driving, but the air which fanned their faces was almost like that which comes from a heated oven.
Already the cattle in the nearby fields had sought the shade of the trees in the pastures. The hens in the farmyards also were lying in the shade, their wings partly extended as if they were trying to cool their heated bodies.
“Hens in hot weather,” said George, “always make me think they are laughing at us.”
“What do you mean?” demanded John. “Who ever heard a hen laugh.”
“I didn’t say I had heard them laugh, but they have their mouths open.”
“Hens don’t have mouths, my friend.”
“They don’t?” demanded George. “Then how do they eat?”
“They have throats and bills and beaks, but they don’t have mouths.”
“What is a mouth anyway?” said George scornfully. “Isn’t it the opening in the head through which one takes food into his stomach?”
“I suppose it is.”
“Well, doesn’t a hen swallow corn?”
“She does.”
“Then she has a mouth, hasn’t she?”
“Wait a minute and I’ll tell you. It’s this way, you see—”
At that moment there was a loud report directly beneath the car which at that time was passing under a stone bridge.
George instantly stopped the car, but another driver directly in front of him was so startled by the unexpected sound that he lost control of his automobile and swung into the ditch, nearly overturning his car as he did so. Instantly rising from his seat he turned and glared at the Go Ahead boys as if he was tempted to visit some merited punishment upon them.
The boys, however, were so busy with their own troubles that they ignored the anger of the driver before them. Instantly leaping from their seats they began their investigations.
Only a brief time, however, was required to disclose the cause of the trouble. “A blowout,” said George disgustedly. “It’s torn that tube all into shreds.”
“You blew it up too tight,” suggested Grant.
“Thank you,” said George as he took off his coat, “you’re so well informed about these matters that I think I’ll let you help me put a new tire on.”
The angry stranger, who by this time had recovered from his surprise, speedily departed. Indeed, the fact that the boys had had only a slight conversation with him perhaps increased his anger and as soon as his car had been pulled from the ditch, a task in which all joined to help, he soon afterward disappeared from sight.
The intense heat soon caused the faces of the boys to be shining with perspiration. The dust from the road also did its part until in the streaked countenances of the Go Ahead boys even their own mothers would have had difficulty in recognizing members of their families.
The difficult task and the heat of the day also united in increasing the irritation of the boys. There were several remarks made which happily were soon forgotten or ignored.
In the midst of the task the jack broke and the wheel dropped upon the ground.
“There you have it!” exclaimed George irritably. “A broken jack! No tube! Seventeen miles from nowhere and not a crumb to eat!”
“Never mind, George,” said John good-naturedly. “Somebody will be coming along pretty soon and will lend us a hand.”
“He will have to lend us a jack, I guess if we ever get anywhere. I don’t know what is the matter with this thing,” he added as again he examined the broken implement.
“There’s nothing for us to do except wait,” suggested Grant. “Come up here in the shade, fellows. We’ll have to join that man who is sitting there.”
As Grant spoke he pointed toward a bank or knoll near the roadside where a man was seen reclining on the ground beneath the shade of some huge maple trees.
“That’s a good suggestion,” declared Fred, and in a brief time the boys were seated on the ground, enjoying the relief from the heat of the burning sun.
Their only hope now rested upon some friendly driver stopping to aid them.
To the amazement of Fred, as well as of his companions, the man whom they discovered enjoying the shade was none other than the tramp who had first been seen in the old Meeker House.
He stared a moment at the unexpected sight and then as a grin spread over the countenance of the man he was convinced that his first impression had been correct. The tramp of the Meeker House was there before him. How he had come there, so far from the place where he had been first seen, was a mystery.
“You seem to have had bad luck, my friends,” laughed the tramp, as he sat erect when the boys approached.
“Yes, the day is so hot,” growled George, “that the tube burst. We had a blowout. We had it blown up too much anyway when we left Newburgh.”
“Have you been to Newburgh!” inquired the tramp.
“Yes,” replied George shortly.
“Did you find your car?”
“No.”
“That’s too bad.” If the tramp, however, had any real sympathy for the boys in their loss his countenance failed to reflect the feeling, for he was still grinning at his young companions. “Not much use,” he continued. “There must be seventy-five or a hundred thousand autos in Jersey alone, and when you stop to think of all that are in New York and Pennsylvania you will see you stand mighty little chance of ever finding your own car.”
“Thank you,” said George. “You needn’t be worried though, for we are going to get it.”
“What are you doing up here?” demanded Fred.
“Why I got to thinking of it last night,” explained the tramp, “after you boys left home and the more I thought about it the more I thought I would like to come up into this part of the world too. You haven’t any objection to my coming?” he added quizzically.
“Oh, no, not the slightest,” said Fred glibly. “I was just wondering how a man as weary as you are could have made such good time. You must have come forty miles or more. How did you do it?”
“Part of the way,” replied the tramp, “I came in an empty box-car. I got a lift with an old man who was taking a load of produce to market and another man gave me a ride in his automobile. I don’t think I have walked all together more than half a mile. There’s always somebody that is good to the halt, the blind, the lame,—”
“And the lazy,” joined in Fred.
“I guess that’s right,” said the tramp. “But I’m not to blame for it. I don’t like to work. It’s the way I was born, and if I don’t like it I don’t see why I should do it, do you?”
“Not as long as some one else is willing to work and get you something to eat and wear,” suggested George tartly.
“I guess you’re right again,” drawled the tramp. “If the time ever comes when there isn’t anybody to do that for me, then I guess I’ll have to go to work. But I’m putting it off as long as possible. Hello,” he added quickly, “there comes a car,” pointing as he spoke toward an automobile which was swiftly approaching.
George ran speedily down to the road and hailed the approaching car.
The automobile was stopped as the signal was discovered, and for the first time George was conscious of his dust-discolored face, for seated in the back seat was a young girl with her mother. She laughed as she saw George’s countenance and even her mother’s face could not conceal the quizzical expression that appeared when George spoke.
“We had a blowout here,” explained George, “and when we tried to put on a new tube our jack broke. Can you help us out?”
“Certainly,” said the woman. “James, you help these young gentlemen,” she added as she turned to her chauffeur.
The other boys now turned and offered their assistance to George, although Grant and John plainly were more interested in the occupants of the friendly car than they were in the task immediately confronting them.
“There’s no use, boys,” said the chauffeur at last. “That blowout must have been a big one.”
“It was,” spoke up Fred quickly.
“It has bent your rim. Yon never can get a new tire on that until it has been fixed.”
“What shall we do?” inquired George blankly.
“The best thing I can suggest is for you to get in our car and we will take you to a good garage about four miles up the road. They will have to come back here in another car so you won’t have to walk.”
“That’s a good suggestion,” said George quickly as he prepared to accept the invitation.
His zeal, however was quickly shared by two of his friends, who insisted that their presence also was required. “You see,” Fred explained, “if they cannot help us at that garage, why some of us will have to go on to another. We cannot leave our car here all day in the sun.”
John was the only one of the party left behind and as it was deemed necessary for some one to remain with the car he volunteered for that service.
The task confronting him was not difficult, however, and John soon was reclining once more in a shaded spot near the tramp who was still seated in the same place he had first been seen.
In spite of John’s efforts to draw the man into conversation the tramp was strangely silent most of the time. At last, however, his mood changed and turning to John he said, “Your friends ought to be back here by this time.”
“They may have had trouble in getting a car right away to bring them back.”
“Well, they will be here pretty soon,” said the tramp. “I think I’ll go up to that orchard up yonder,” he added as he pointed to a hillside covered with apple trees about one hundred yards distant.
“Are there any apples there ripe?” inquired John quickly.
“Plenty of them. Plenty of them. The owner doesn’t seem to care anything about them. He hasn’t sprayed his trees or pruned them for years, but there are some juicy red apples in the corner of the orchard and they are mighty good. I know for I have tried them already.”
“Wait a minute and I’ll go up with you,” said John.
Together they made their way up the side of the hill and John speedily discovered that the statement of his companion was correct. The ground beneath the trees was carpeted with a layer of red apples tempting in their size and appearance.
“I think I’ll take back a few for the other fellows,” said John, as he filled his cap. “I would like to pay for them, but I don’t see anybody around here.”
“Nobody pays for these apples,” explained the tramp. “The owner of the farm spent a lot of money on his place and then got tired of it and went back to the city. He left everything here to go to pieces.”
“That’s a pity,” said John as he climbed over the fence and started back toward the place where they had left the automobile.
“Where is our car?” demanded John in consternation as he drew near the place from which they had started.
In amazement he looked up and down the road, but not a trace of the automobile was to be seen.
“What do you suppose has happened to that car?” he demanded, again turning to his companion.
“I don’t know unless it has evaporated,” said the tramp. “It’s a pretty hot day.”
“Evaporated nothing!” explained John angrily. “The car is gone. I don’t know what George and the fellows will say. We have lost two cars now instead of one. I don’t understand how it could have been taken away without our knowing it.”
“That isn’t nearly so important,” suggested the tramp, “as the fact that it is gone. There isn’t any car here.”
“I think the men from the garage may have come and taken the car away,” suggested the tramp.
“That may be the way it is,” said John, relieved by the suggestion. A moment later, however, the thought occurred to him that in the event of the return of the boys with a man from the garage, in all probability some of them would have remained and not all have gone back with him. In that case his companions must be near, but as he looked up and down the road he did not discover any trace of his friends.
“They will be back here by and by,” said the tramp encouragingly. “It won’t take very long to straighten that rim and put on a new shoe. The best thing for you to do is to stay right here until they come.”
“I don’t see much else to do,” said John, still far from being persuaded that an explanation of the missing car was to be found in the suggestion made by his strange companion. “I guess I’ll just have to wait.”
“If you do, then you might as well wait comfortably.” As he spoke the tramp again sought the shaded place on the bank above the road, and seated on the ground, with his back against a tree, he at once began to feast upon the apples he had brought from the orchard.
Following his example John speedily climbed the little knoll and quickly seated himself in a similar manner against a nearby tree.
“We can see up and down the road here,” said the tramp, “and if your friends come you’ll know it long before they are here.”
For some reason John lost his desire to talk to the strange man. He was continually looking up the road in the direction in which the boys had disappeared when they had departed in the friendly car. A half-hour passed and only two automobiles were seen on the dusty road. The heat seemed to increase as the noon-hour approached. There was no habitation within sight at which a luncheon might be obtained and John now began to feel hungry as well as anxious.
He was by no means satisfied that George’s car had been taken to the garage by the boys. Indeed, his fear that the second car had been stolen was steadily increasing and he was blaming himself, as not unnaturally he believed George would blame him if the car had indeed been taken.
When an hour had passed a car was seen approaching which the tramp quickly declared belonged to a garage in a neighboring village. “I know that car,” he said confidently, “for I have worked in that shop.”
“Do you know anything about automobiles?” demanded John quickly.
“Not very much, but then one doesn’t have to know very much to work in a place like that. I used to look wise and hammer a lot and then charge still more. I have made up my mind that if ever I have to work again I’m going to find a job in an automobile shop. The hardest thing you have to do is to make out your bills.”
“That may be so,” said John, smiling as he spoke, “though I hope it won’t prove to be the case this time. There are the boys in that car,” he added quickly, as he recognized his three friends approaching. The car was driven by a man in his shirt sleeves and the speed at which he was moving proclaimed the fact that either he was an expert driver or one of the most reckless of men.
A few minutes later the automobile was stopped in front of John, who now ran down into the road to greet the returning boys.
“Where’s the car, Jack?” inquired Grant quickly.
“I don’t know,” said John.
“You don’t know! Weren’t you here in charge of it?”
“I have been here all the time except about five minutes when I went up into the orchard yonder and got some apples. When I came back the car was gone. This man,” he added, pointing to the tramp as he spoke, “said he thought you had come from the garage and taken the car back with you.”
“Whew!” whistled Fred. “This is getting exciting. First you lose one car and then you lose another. I think we’ll have to go back to the old Meeker House and look for its ghost.”
“I don’t see anything funny in this,” said Grant in disgust. “Here we are at least four miles from the railroad. We know how hot and dusty the road is and we don’t want—”
“You fellows are a sympathetic crowd,” broke in George. “You’re thinking about your own comfort all the while and not a word about my losses. It’s bad enough to have one car stolen to say nothing of two.”
“Do you think this second car has been stolen?” demanded Fred abruptly, turning upon his friend as he spoke.
“Well, it’s gone, isn’t it?” said George.
“Yes, it’s gone,” admitted Fred, “but that doesn’t mean it has been stolen.”
“Well, tell me what has become of it then? Where is it? Show me the car.”
“I can’t do it,” said Fred. “I wish I could. But I don’t believe that car has been stolen.”
“What do you think?” demanded George, turning to the mechanic as he spoke.
“I haven’t heard of a car being stolen up here in a long time, and I don’t see how anybody could have taken that car away without being seen if he was trying to steal it.”
“That’s all true enough,” said George angrily. “I know all those things, but tell me if you can where my car is. I don’t see how anybody could have taken it away from here with the shoe being in the condition that it was. I never saw such a blowout in my life.”
“Perhaps we can track it,” suggested Grant.
“That’s right. That’s just what we can do,” said George eagerly. “Look here,” he added, as he pointed to a place near the road where the imprint of the mutilated tire plainly could be seen.
It was possible to follow this track a few yards, but there the trail ceased, the car apparently had been brought up again on the hard roadbed and no trace was left of its passage.
“What’s become of your tramp?” demanded George, suddenly turning upon John.
All four boys quickly looked about them, but the tramp had disappeared from sight.
“That’s one of the strangest things I ever heard of,” said Fred. “That tramp knew how you lost the other car and I guess he could tell some things about this one too, if he wanted to.”
“He was with me all the time,” spoke up John quickly. “I never lost sight of him a minute.”
“It’s a pity you didn’t do as well with the car,” said Grant.
“Well, the tramp and I went up into the orchard together. We were together all the while we were there and we came back together. When we got back here we saw that the car was gone. The tramp was here. Now will you please tell me how a tramp could steal an automobile and still be with me all the while?”
“What do you think is the best thing for us to do?” said George, turning to the mechanic.
“Your car isn’t here,” said the man, “and you could track it a little way, far enough to see that it was taken in that direction,” he explained as he pointed ahead of him. “Now that’s right on the way back to the garage and my advice is for all four of you to get into the car and we’ll see what we can find on the way back. If you don’t find anything we can telephone when you get into the village, or you can leave on the train. There’s one out in about an hour and a half.”
The suggestion finally was adopted and all four boys maintained a careful outlook for the missing car throughout their ride to the garage. However no trace of the missing automobile was discovered. The car had disappeared and the boys were stranded in a little village in northern New Jersey.
Leaving his companions, George telephoned his father. The conversation lasted several minutes and when at last George rejoined his friends he said glumly, “My father says the best thing for us to do is to come home by train. He told us to look out and not lose the train.”
“I guess,” laughed Grant, “it would be a little more expensive for him if we should lose the train than to have us lose the cars.”
“If we keep this up much longer,” said Fred, “we’ll have a good big bill to pay. I never knew anybody in my life that ever had a car stolen and here we lose two inside of a week.”
“You must remember,” said John soberly, “that we are the Go Ahead boys. It doesn’t make any difference what we start in we have got to leave the rest of them behind us. If it’s looking for smugglers or digging for a pirate’s chest or having our automobiles stolen, it doesn’t make a particle of difference which, we are bound to go ahead, get ahead and keep ahead.”
“I’m glad to hear you talk that way,” said George grimly. “I have been looking in my pockets to see if I have money enough to get a ticket home. Have any of you got money?”
“I’ll take up a collection,” suggested John, seizing his cap as he spoke. The result of his efforts, however, when the sum was counted, was not quite sufficient to purchase the tickets required by the four boys on their return trip.
“I don’t see anything for us to do,” said Fred glibly, “except to leave String here. He’s the one who is responsible for the loss of the car to-day and if anybody has to stay behind I think he ought to be the one.”
“I agree with you,” said John meekly. “I’m willing to stay, for I confess I would like to find out what has become of that lost car.”