“Who are you?” asked Jerry, boldly.
“Never mind who we are!” exclaimed the same voice. “Just git out of that choo-choo wagon an’ hand over what spare change you have.”
“Is this a hold-up?” demanded Ned.
“If it isn’t it’s a good imitation of one,” was the answer, accompanied by a laugh. “Come, now! Look lively!”
One of the men came around to the side of the auto and grabbed Bob by the arm. At the same time another of the tramp trio attempted to seize Jerry. Ned was in the rear seat.
“Let go of me!” exclaimed Jerry, striking at the man who had climbed up on the step of the machine. The boy’s blow fell on the man’s arm.
“Oh, that’s your game, is it?” cried the ruffian. He drew back his fist as though to fell Jerry.
“Help! help!” yelled Bob. He was being pulled from the car by the tramp who had grabbed him. It looked bad for the Motor Boys.
Ned sprang up from the rear. He had been fumbling in a valise on the floor of the tonneau. He leaned forward over the front seat. In each hand he held some object, bright and shining, and he aimed them full in the faces of the two tramps on either side of the auto.
There was a sharp, hissing sound, a click, and the air was filled with a pungent odor.
“I’m killed! He’s blinded me!” yelled the tramp, who had grabbed Bob.
“Oh! oh! My head is blown off!” yelled the other ruffian.
Both of them toppled from the steps of the auto and rolled over and over in the road, screaming with pain and fright.
“And there’s one for you!” shouted Ned, taking aim at the tramp in front of the machine, and once more the hissing sound was heard.
“Wow!” cried the fellow, and, whirling around, he dashed off, full speed, down the road.
“Bully for you! Hit ’em again—knock ’em out—smash—bang—never say die—hear ’em yell—do it again—siss—boom—ah! Whoop!” cried Andy, standing on the seat and waving his cap.
The two tramps who had fallen to the road got up, and, still yelling in pain, followed their companion.
“Start off!” exclaimed Ned to Bob. “I guess they won’t bother us again very soon.”
“What in the world did you do to them?” asked Jerry.
“Used an ammonia squirt-gun on each one,” said Ned.
He showed the boys two affairs that looked like small revolvers, only the ammunition was liquid spirits of ammonia, quite strong, contained in a rubber bulb in the handle. By pressing the bulb a fine stream of ammonia could be shot for quite a distance.
“I saw ’em advertised in a magazine,” said Ned. “They were just the things for vicious dogs and men, it said, for they blind a person temporarily and make his face smart like sixty, but no permanent injury is done. I had ’em in my valise and I just happened to think of them when those chaps held us up.”
“Lucky you did,” commented Jerry. “I thought we were surely going to be robbed.”
“I guess they thought they were killed when they felt that ammonia,” said Bob. “Ned, you’re all right, that’s what you are!” he finished, heartily.
“I guess we’d better move along, or Mr. Wakefield may be worried about us,” suggested Jerry.
So Bob threw the gear into place and the machine moved away. No further sign of the tramps was seen, and the boys reached Norwich without further incident. They found the hotel Mr. Wakefield had arranged to meet them at, and soon were eating a good supper. The adventure with the tramps was related, and Mr. Wakefield congratulated the boys on their pluck.
An early start was had next morning and good progress was made, so that by noon the travelers were in Waterbury, Conn., where dinner was eaten. Mr. Wakefield said that by swift traveling New York could be reached late that night, but he did not advise it. Instead, the night was spent in Danbury.
By noon the next day more than half the distance between their last stopping place and New York had been covered, and late that afternoon found the two autos speeding down Riverside Drive, leading to the metropolis. Not an accident had occurred since the hold-up by the tramps and the blowing out of the tire on the boys’ auto, and each one was congratulating himself that the trip was being made under the best of luck.
The travelers were about opposite Grant’s tomb, and were moving along slowly, when suddenly, with a noise like a shot, one of Mr. Wakefield’s tires burst. A young woman, driving a spirited horse, was passing his auto at the time, and the animal, taking fright, took the bit in his teeth and bolted.
The young woman screamed in fright, lost her hold on the reins and clung desperately to the seat. There were no vehicles on the drive in that vicinity just then, excepting the two autos and the runaway.
“Quick!” cried Mr. Wakefield to the boys, as he brought his machine to a stop. “Take after her! There may be an accident! I can’t go on until I mend this break!”
Ned was steering, and made a turn. Like a flash he threw on the third gear and the auto sprang forward like an unleashed hound. Bob, Andy and Jerry clung to the seats, while Ned steered the machine after the runaway horse.
The animal was now galloping at top speed, but the auto was creeping up on him. It made scarcely a sound, only a purring as the cylinders exploded, one after another.
“What are you going to do?” asked Jerry. “Go close enough so one of us can jump in the carriage?”
“Watch!” was all Ned replied.
Faster and faster went the auto. At length it passed the galloping steed, and the boys could see the young woman clinging in desperation to the seat. Then, as Ned steered the machine ahead of the horse, the boys saw what his plan was.
The animal was now directly behind the auto, coming on like the wind. Ned gave one glance back. Then he quickly threw the gears to first speed. So quickly was it done that the horse nearly rammed his nose into the rear of the tonneau. The animal did not think of dashing to one side and so passing the car. Instead he kept his place behind it.
Then Ned shut off the power and allowed the machine to drift along. The horse, seeing the obstruction continually in front of him, gradually reduced his speed, and finally, when the auto came to a stop, the animal did likewise.
Jerry jumped from his seat and, running back, grasped the bridle. He spoke soothingly to the animal, and soon had him quieted. The young woman, pale and trembling, regained her composure.
“I’m so much obliged to you,” she said. “Really, I don’t know what possessed Dexter. He never was frightened at autos before. I’m a little ashamed of myself, too. I ought to have kept hold of the reins and I could have managed him.”
“Are you sure you will be all right now?” asked Jerry. “If not, one of us will go with you.”
“Oh, I can take care of him now,” replied the lady. “Dexter will be all right. I thank you boys very much,” she added, sweetly, and a moment later drove off.
The boys turned the auto around and speeded back to where they had left Mr. Wakefield. He had repaired the break in the tire in the meanwhile and was ready to proceed.
In a short time the travelers steered for the hotel, uptown, where Mr. Wakefield had engaged rooms for all. The machines were sent to a garage, and the boys prepared to wash up for supper. It was getting quite dark, and the electric lights in the streets were gleaming. Jerry was looking from the window of the sitting-room of the suite which the boys had on the third floor.
Suddenly he gave a start and cried:
“There he goes!”
“Who?” asked Ned.
“Noddy Nixon!” replied Jerry, dashing from the room.
For a few seconds the other boys did not know whether Jerry was joking or in earnest. But when he did not return in a little while they knew he must have meant what he said.
“I don’t see anything of Noddy,” spoke Ned, looking out of the window whence Jerry had spied their enemy.
“It’s getting too dark to see anything,” said Bob.
“Well, I guess if Jerry said he saw Noddy he meant it,” put in Andy. “I hope he catches him and gives him a good thrashing!”
“Well, boys,” exclaimed Mr. Wakefield at that instant, entering their room, “are you all ready for supper?”
“We are,” answered Ned.
“Where is Jerry?” asked the athletic instructor, looking around.
“He went out for a little while,” replied Ned, quickly, not wishing to state Jerry’s real errand. “I guess he’ll be back in a short time.”
“He doesn’t know his way around New York; I hope he will not get lost,” spoke Mr. Wakefield.
“Trust Jerry to find his way back,” said Ned.
Then the party went down to supper without waiting for the missing member. Meanwhile, Jerry was in hot pursuit of Noddy.
“I wonder what he is doing in New York?” thought Jerry, as he jumped into an elevator that was just going down, and got out on the ground floor.
The boy ran out into the street and glanced in the direction he had seen Noddy taking. The thoroughfare was not crowded, and, though it was getting quite dark, Jerry caught a glimpse of Noddy’s back.
“I’ll catch him and ask him what he meant about that note he wrote, threatening to get even with us,” he thought, as he hurried on.
Noddy had quite a start, and Jerry had some difficulty in getting close to him. He lost a little time at a street crossing, where there were a number of vehicles, and Noddy got farther ahead. Jerry broke into a run when he saw a passage, and hurried on.
Noddy happened to glance back just as Jerry passed beneath an electric light, and seeing he was pursued, started forward at a rapid rate.
The pursuit was getting hot. They had passed from a busy part of the city and were on a street containing only old buildings. There were less people, too, and Jerry had a good view of Noddy.
Suddenly Noddy turned, shook his fist, and disappeared into a dilapidated tenement house, which he was in front of at the time. With a cry, Jerry bounded forward. As he entered the hallway he bumped into a roughly dressed man, as he could see by the dim light of a lamp suspended at the rear end of the passage.
“Now, then, wot’s all this rush about?” demanded the man.
“I beg your pardon,” said Jerry, halting.
“Be you the doctor?” asked the man.
“The doctor? No. Why?”
“’Cause he’s took bad, an’ we’ve sent fer the doctor. I t’ought you was him.”
“Who’s sick?” inquired the boy, forgetting for the moment what had brought him to the place.
“He’s an old miner. I don’t know him, but he come to me, sick an’ dead broke, an’ I let him sleep in my room. He’s off his trolley, I guess, but he says his name is Jim Nestor.”
“Jim Nestor!” exclaimed Jerry. He remembered that was the name of the miner in the hut, whom Pender had robbed.
“That’s the name he gave.”
“Off his trolley?” went on the youth, wondering what form of disease that was.
“Yep. Nutty, you know; bug-house, wheels, crazy, if that suits you better.”
“Oh!” replied Jerry, understanding.
“If you ain’t the doc. no use of me wastin’ my time on you,” the man went on. “I’ll have to chase out after one.”
“I saw the sign of a doctor’s office a little way back on this street as I came along,” volunteered the boy. “I’ll go and stay with the man while you run there.”
“Bully for you!” said the man. “Some of the people in this house is afraid of him ’cause he talks in his sleep. You’ll find him on the second floor front.”
Jerry went up. In a dimly lighted room he saw an old man lying on a bed, covered with ragged quilts. One glance showed Jerry that the man was the miner who had mysteriously disappeared from the hut when they sought to aid him.
Suddenly the sick man opened his eyes. He looked sharply at Jerry and exclaimed:
“Oh, you’ve come back, have you? Where is the boy who took my gold?”
“He got away,” explained Jerry, realizing that the sick man was in his right senses, for a time at least.
“I remember you,” went on the miner. “You and some other boys helped me after I was struck. You left me alone in the cabin. I was afraid the one who took my gold would come back, so I crawled out. The air made me feel better. I walked to the railroad, got on a freight train, and came here. Then I got sick again.
“Gold! gold! gold!” exclaimed the miner, suddenly. “I see it all around. Millions and millions of it! There is gold for all of us! Do not rob me!”
Jerry knew the man was wandering again. Just then the doctor came in and Jerry, after promising to come back, hurried around to the hotel, where he found his friends worried over his absence. He explained about his chase and the finding of the mysterious miner.
“Did you catch Noddy?” asked Andy.
“I forgot all about him when I saw Nestor,” replied Jerry. “I guess Noddy got away, all right, probably out of a back door.”
“What are you going to do about the miner?” asked Mr. Wakefield, after supper.
“I’d like to befriend him if we could,” said Jerry. “He seems like an honest man.”
“I’ll go around and see him,” remarked the athletic instructor. “Perhaps we can arrange to do something for him.”
It was quite late that night when Mr. Wakefield returned from his visit to Jim Nestor. He found the boys up waiting for him.
“It’s a queer story,” said Mr. Wakefield. “Part of it I want you to hear for yourselves from him, part I will tell you. It seems that James Nestor, which is his name, found quite a rich claim out in Arizona. He staked it out and, with some of the gold in his possession, came East to see if he could find a former partner he wanted to share in his good luck.
“He reached Cresville and there he was taken sick. He went to the old hut, where you found him, and there, while he was helpless, some one, whom you boys know to be Jack Pender, came along and robbed him.
“Nestor made his way to New York, after his mysterious disappearance from the hut, and he found poor but faithful friends in the tenement house.”
“What part of the story do you want him to tell us himself?” asked Ned.
“About his claim—his gold mine,” said Mr. Wakefield. “I would rather you get that from him direct.”
“Is he very sick?” asked Jerry.
“The doctor thinks he will be around in a few days.”
“And what do you propose?” asked Bob, who could see that Mr. Wakefield had something on his mind.
“I think if you boys are going to make a western trip you cannot do better than take this miner along with you,” answered the gentleman. “I talked to him about it, after the doctor had given him some quieting medicine, and he said he would be glad of a chance to get out West.”
“Shall we wait here until he gets well?” asked Jerry.
“My plan would be for you boys to make up his fare to Chicago,” said Mr. Wakefield, “and let him join you there, say in a week. You can go by auto and he can go by train.”
This plan met with the approval of the three chums. They made up a purse for Jim Nestor and arranged for Mr. Wakefield to take it to the miner. The latter did so, and planned for the miner to come on to Chicago when he was well and strong.
“The boys will put up at the Grand Hotel,” said Mr. Wakefield, passing over the money, which was to be Nestor’s fare to Chicago.
“And I’ll meet ’em there an’ put ’em up against the greatest proposition they ever heard of,” promised the miner.
Five days later the automobile travelers were in Chicago. No serious accidents had occurred on the road, and they finished the first part of their trip in good shape. All the boys thought of was whether they would be allowed to proceed farther West.
Andy Rush was obliged to leave them, for he had promised to visit a relative of his mother. He did not relish being separated from his chums.
“Tough!” he exclaimed. “Wish I could go along—bully fun—shoot Indians—lasso the cowboys—kill the buffalos—ride a wild bull—break a bucking mustang—chase over the prairies—lots of sport—whoop!”
“We’d like to have you come,” said Jerry, “but your folks said you could go no farther, and we have agreed to leave you here and take Mr. Nestor. So we have to keep our word.”
Andy agreed that this was right, but the galvanic youth certainly did hate to part from his friends. The three chums put up at the Grand Hotel, and Mr. Wakefield, after some parting words of advice, left them, as he had some business to transact. He said he did not expect to see them again before he returned to Cresville, and wished them all sorts of good luck.
“What’s the first thing to do?” asked Bob, when the boys found themselves alone in their hotel rooms.
“Wire home that we are safe and ask if we can go farther West,” suggested Jerry. “But don’t say anything about the miner. He may not show up, and they’ll laugh at us if they find that we have been fooled.”
The wires were soon busy with messages from each of the three boys.
A day of anxious waiting ensued. Then, on the second afternoon the bellboy brought three yellow envelopes to their rooms. With trembling fingers the boys tore the missives open.
“Hurrah! I can go!” cried Jerry.
“So can I!” exclaimed Ned.
“Me, too!” put in Bob.
The boys executed an impromptu war-dance in their delight.
“Ho for the West and the gold mines!” cried Ned, trying to hug Jerry and Chunky at the same time and finding it was too much of a contract.
There came a knock on the door.
“I guess that’s some one to tell us to stop our noise,” remarked Jerry. “I thought you chaps were cutting up too rough.”
“As if he didn’t make as much of the row as any of us!” exclaimed Ned.
Bob opened the door. A well-dressed man, with iron-gray moustache and hair, entered.
“Here I be!” he announced, “an’ I see you boys are right on deck!”
“I guess you’ve made a mistake,” said Jerry, gently.
“Ain’t this the Grand Hotel, where I was to meet the boys that befriended old Jim Nestor?” the man asked.
Then the boys saw it was their friend, the miner. But he had so changed in appearance, with a new suit of clothes, and with his hair and whiskers trimmed, that they did not recognize him. They greeted him heartily.
“I got well quicker than I expected,” went on Nestor, “an’ I couldn’t stand New York any longer. Mr. Wakefield left me a tidy sum. He grub-staked me, so to speak, an’ I come West. Got a quick train an’ made Chicago ’most as soon as you boys did in your auto wagon.”
“We’re glad to see you,” remarked Jerry.
“No more than I am to see you,” put in the miner. “Now let’s git right down to business. That’s my way. No beatin’ around the bush for Jim Nestor.
“I told your friend, Mr. Wakefield, that I’d put you boys up against a good big proposition. Now I’m goin’ to do it. Can you go as far as Arizona in that wagon of yours?”
“Farther if need be,” replied Ned.
“Good! Now will your folks let you go?”
For answer the boys held out their telegrams.
“Good, again I see it’s all right. Now I want you boys to know I ain’t so poor as I looked to be when you found me. I’m rich, that’s what I am, only I can’t git at my money.
“The long and short of it is that I discovered down in the southern part of Arizona a rich gold mine. It assays high. In fact, if you saw the gold I had in the hut, you saw some of the yellow stuff that came from my mine. It’s a lost mine.”
“A lost mine?” exclaimed Bob, blankly. “Then what good is it?”
“It was lost, but I found it again,” explained Nestor. “There’s millions in it. It’s up in the mountains, about a hundred miles from Tucson. The gold is there, but it’s hard to reach.
“Now what I want to know is, can you boys go there, or near there, in your choo-choo cart? If you can, and we are successful, there’s a chance for us all to make our fortunes, for I’ll give you boys a share apiece for what you did for me when I was in trouble.”
“I guess we can go,” said Jerry.
“It’ll be a hard trip, full of trouble an’ some danger,” warned the miner.
“We’ll risk it,” said Ned.
“When can you start?” asked Nestor.
“Let’s go right now!” exclaimed Bob, with such earnestness that the other laughed.
“To-morrow or next day will do,” said Nestor. “I have a few things to attend to. I’ll meet you here, say day after to-morrow.”
At the agreed time Nestor was on hand. In the meantime the auto had been thoroughly overhauled, put in shape for a long, hard trip, and extra supplies purchased. It was a bright, sunny day when the start from Chicago was made.
“Let her go!” exclaimed Nestor, as he climbed into the rear seat with Bob.
Jerry, who was steering, threw in the gear clutches and the machine moved off on its long and what was destined to be eventful trip.
“Hold on!” cried Nestor, suddenly.
“What’s the matter?” asked Jerry, stopping the car.
“Have you boys got guns?”
“Guns?” repeated Jerry, somewhat in bewilderment.
“Well, revolvers, then,” went on the miner.
In answer, Ned rather sheepishly took from his valise three new double-action revolvers of excellent make.
“I thought we might need ’em,” he said, “but I was afraid you’d laugh at me and say it was foolish.”
“It’s all right!” exclaimed Nestor. “I was going to tell you to git some. You see, you don’t always need a gun in Arizona, but when you do, as the man in the story said about Texas, you need it mighty bad an’ mighty sudden. So it’s a prime thing you have ’em. I’ve got mine,” and he showed two big .45 calibre ones.
Well armed, as well as otherwise provided for, the little expedition started off again, the automobile wending in and out through the busy Chicago streets.
“We’ll make as straight a course as we can for Tucson,” said Nestor. “I know the roads pretty well, ’cause I traveled ’em in a stage years ago, when Chicago was only a village.”
The machine was puffing along at a fair rate of speed and had almost reached the outskirts of the city when a policeman, mounted on a motor-cycle, dashed up.
“I’ll have to take you in,” he announced.
“What for?” asked Ned.
“Riding too fast in the city limits.”
“But we were going slow,” objected Jerry. “If you know anything about automobiles you can see the lever is only on the first-speed notch, and that only goes ten miles an hour at best.”
“Can’t help it,” replied the officer. “I timed you and you went too fast.”
“Dog-gone his hide, let me git my gun out an’ I’ll show him who he’s a-holdin’ up!” exclaimed Nestor, in a whisper.
“No, no!” expostulated Ned, who overheard the miner’s threat. “This isn’t out West. Don’t pull any guns!”
“Well,” put in Jerry, speaking to the officer, “if you think we were violating the law I suppose we’ll have to go back with you. Shall I turn around and accompany you?” he asked, politely.
“That’s what you better do. I don’t want no fuss, but if you want trouble I’ll make it for you.”
The other boys wondered at Jerry’s easy compliance with what they knew was an unreasonable and unjust command. The steersman started the machine slowly ahead, and, as the road was wide, began to turn in a circle, to head back to Chicago.
But when the auto was half way around, and pointed in the direction of the Windy City, Jerry did not continue on the way the officer expected. Instead, the boy widened his circle, made a complete revolution and then, throwing in the second speed, dashed away down the road, leaving the discomfited motor-policeman to rage over the trick that had been played on him.
“I wasn’t going to submit to arrest when I knew we were not guilty,” said Jerry.
In a little while Chicago was left behind, and the auto dashed along a pleasant country road and was making good time toward the West.
Suddenly there came a puffing from behind that told of another machine coming. It passed the boys, who had slowed down a bit, and as it went by the occupants of the Cresville machine had a good view of those in the other car.
“Did you see them?” cried Jerry, in amazement.
“Who?” asked Bob, who had not given much heed to the other auto.
“Noddy Nixon was in that machine, and with him were Jack Pender and Bill Berry!”
As Jerry spoke, the other boys looked and saw Noddy turn to stare at them. The bully rose in his seat and shook his fist at the Motor Boys, while the wind bore back some indistinguishable words he shouted.
“Let’s take after him!” cried Ned.
“What would be the use?” asked Jerry. “We don’t want trouble if we can avoid it. The farther off those fellows are the better we’ll be.”
The boys explained to Nestor something about the character of Noddy, Berry, and Pender, the miner listening, gravely.
“Well, on the whole,” he remarked, “it’s better to have an enemy in front of you than at your back. I guess we can make out to beat ’em at whatever game they play. But I’d like to catch the chap as took my gold.”
Jerry started his machine up again, but made no effort to catch up with Noddy, who was now far in advance. The Cresville auto bowled along, and at noon a stop was made in a small village, where dinner was eaten.
They traveled along all the afternoon. Toward dusk they struck a lonely stretch of country, and inquiry at a log cabin brought out that the nearest town was ten miles ahead.
“We must push for it,” said Nestor; “that is, if we intend to sleep in beds to-night.”
Ned was steering, the boys having agreed to take turn and turn about. It became quite dark, and the auto was shooting along at reduced speed, for, even with the gas and oil lamps, the road was dim.
Suddenly a shot rang out in the darkness. It was followed by a louder report as one of the auto tires burst, punctured by a bullet. The car careened to one side and bumped along on the flattened rubber.
“They’re shooting at us!” cried Nestor. “Two can play at that game!”
He whipped out his revolver and fired three shots straight ahead, the flashes cutting the darkness.
“They’re behind, not ahead!” yelled Jerry, who was in the rear seat with the miner. “It was one of the back tires that burst!”
Ned had shut off power and the auto came to a halt. The boys got out, and Jerry took off one of the oil lamps to see what damage had been done. A new inner tube would be needed, and it would be hard work inserting it in the dark.
“That’s some of Noddy’s or Pender’s work,” observed Ned. “They must be following us, and yet they started off ahead.”
“There are so many roads around here that they could go off to one side, wait, and then come up behind us,” said Nestor. “But what’s to be done?”
“We can’t go ahead until we fix the tire,” said Jerry.
“Don’t try to do it in the dark,” advised the miner. “Tell you what to do. I’ll camp here with the machine, for I’m used to sleeping outdoors nights. It’s only about two miles into town now, and you boys can walk it. In the morning you can come back and fix things up.”
“What will you do for supper?” asked Jerry.
“Don’t you worry about that,” replied the miner. “I’ve got a couple of sandwiches in my pocket. I got ’em at the place we had dinner, ’cause I always like to travel with a little grub about me. They’ll do until morning.”
So it was arranged. The lights on the auto were put out and Nestor curled up in the tonneau, with some lap-robes over him. The boys started afoot for the town, promising to come back as soon as it was light enough to see to put the new tube in the tire.
“I wonder what Noddy’s game is?” asked Ned of his companions. “And how did he and Pender come together?”
“There’s no telling what those two may do,” said Jerry. “I’m afraid we’re in for trouble.”
They were to meet it sooner than they expected. About this time, a mile from where the crippled auto was stalled, two figures were sneaking along the road.
“Are you sure you hit the tire, Bill?” asked a voice, which, if the Motor Boys had heard, they would have recognized at once as Noddy Nixon’s.
“Course I winged ’em,” replied Bill Berry. “It was easy. All I had to do was to jump out from behind the bushes where we were hid and pop at ’em. I could hear the tire bust.”
“I wonder if it made ’em lay up for repairs?”
“It sure did. I heard ’em shut off the power. Now we’ll hustle back to our car and continue the trip.”
“I’ll teach those Cresville cubs to come meddling after me,” spoke Noddy. “I’ll follow ’em close and make all the trouble I can. As you say, we may as well start off again. I hope Pender isn’t tired waiting alone for us in the car. How far ahead is it now?”
“Half a mile, I guess.”
As the Motor Boys knew, Noddy had made for New York after running away from home with Bill Berry. He wrote to the boys and to Pender from there, and later Pender joined the rascally pair.
Noddy was preparing for a trip with his companions, and was just about to start when Jerry spied him from the hotel window. He escaped through the tenement house and at once got ready to leave New York in a hurry.
It was by the merest chance that he passed the Cresville auto on leaving Chicago, and at once had formed the plan of annoying the three chums.
As Nestor had said, Noddy and his companions had taken a side road, allowed the Cresville auto to get ahead and then, at Berry’s suggestion, had ambushed themselves to try and do some damage as the Motor Boys passed. The chief conspirators were now on their way to where they had left their auto.
They reached it, found Pender half asleep, curled up on a seat, and started slowly off in the darkness.
By keeping to the diverging road they were on, they passed around the disabled machine, and came out into the main highway again, ahead of the three boys who were tramping toward the town.
Noddy was steering, and with a reckless disregard of the dangers of the road was going very fast. Suddenly there was a crash and the auto stopped.
“You’ve gone an’ done it now!” exclaimed Bill.
“What if I have?” snapped Noddy. “It’s my machine, ain’t it?”
“An’ it’s my neck you’re tryin’ to break,” replied Bill. “What’s the trouble, anyhow?”
Noddy got out to look. Something had gone wrong with the sliding gear and he had to crawl under the machine to fix it, while Pender held a light. Bill obstinately refused to lend a hand, as he said it was all Noddy’s fault.
“I’m goin’ to walk on to the next town,” declared Berry. “You can stop an’ pick me up on your way through. I’ll be at the hotel.”
He went off in the darkness, while Noddy and Jack continued to work at the auto. It took more than half an hour to fix the break, but at last the machine was ready to start. Noddy was about to crank it up when he heard the sound of some persons coming along the road, voices mingling with the footsteps.
He looked up, and was much surprised to see, in the glare of the lamps, Jerry, Bob and Ned.
“Oh!” said Noddy, faintly, for he did not know what else to say.
On their part the Motor Boys were as much startled as was Noddy at the unexpected meeting.
“So you’re here, are you?” asked Jerry.
“Can’t you see without having to be told?” inquired Noddy, with a surly growl. “Now you’ve seen us, you’d better go on and mind your own business.”
“I guess this is a free country, and we have as much right on this road as you have,” spoke Ned.
“You haven’t any right to follow me all the while!” burst out the former bully of Cresville.
“We wouldn’t be following you if you hadn’t fired at us and punctured the tire!” cried Bob.
“Who says I fired a shot?” demanded Noddy.
“I do!” exclaimed Ned.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” exclaimed the bully. “If you say another word I’ll lick you!”
He was mad clear through, and made a rush at Ned. Jerry sprang forward and met Noddy with a blow straight from the shoulder. The bully went down. He got up quickly, and the two boys went at each other, “hammer and tongs.” Jerry kept his head and landed twice, heavily, on Noddy. The latter gave Jerry a bad blow on the right eye, but the latter retaliated by making Noddy’s nose bleed.
As Noddy felt the warm blood trickling down his face he became frightened.
“Help! help!” he cried. “Why don’t you help me, Jack?”
Pender had discreetly remained in the car. At this he jumped out. Ned was ready, however, and stepped in front of him. Jack aimed a blow at Ned. The latter dodged it and sent a straight left for Pender’s head. It caught him on the jaw and he went down heavily.
By this time Noddy had broken away from Jerry and ran toward the auto. Jerry was satisfied with the punishment he had inflicted and did not follow. Noddy quickly cranked up his machine and leaped to the steering seat.
“Come on, Jack!” he cried.
Pender wiggled from the grip in which Ned held him, jumped into the car beside the bully and the next instant the two enemies of the Motor Boys were chugging off down the road.
For a few moments the three chums stood staring at the vanishing auto. Then Jerry, with a grunt, felt of his damaged eye.
“I guess I don’t owe Noddy anything,” he remarked, drily.
“I paid off some old scores to Pender,” said Ned, with a grin.
“Wish I’d got a chance at one of them!” observed Bob.
“You’re just as well off, Chunky,” spoke Jerry. “We may as well keep on to town, now the excitement is over. It’s getting late, and I’m hungry.”
In about half an hour they were in the village, where they found a good hotel. They caught no sight of Noddy and his companions.
The next morning the boys made a hasty breakfast and hired a man to drive them out to their stranded auto. They found Nestor just awakening from what he declared had been a refreshing sleep. The punctured tire was soon repaired, and, dismissing the driver of the wagon, the boys and the miner sped to town in the machine. They put up at the hotel, where Nestor made a good breakfast.
As a few supplies were needed for the auto, it was decided to lay over for a day in the town. Jerry attended to the purchases, while Nestor and the other boys took things easy in the room they had hired at the hotel.
“I’m sure glad I met you, boys,” said the old miner, stretching out in a comfortable chair. “I’m jest countin’ the days ’till we git out to the gold mine.”
“Will it take long now?” asked Ned.
“We ought to reach Tucson in about two weeks now. Of course it’s going to be a little hard gittin’ over the New Mexico mountain range, but I guess the choo-choo wagon will do it. We may have a little trouble findin’ the mine, too.”
“I thought you said you had it all staked out,” observed Chunky.
“So I have,” answered Nestor. “But you see it’s in a part of the mountains not very well traveled. I’ve lost my way more than once there. But I reckon I can find the mine. Once I strike the trail leadin’ out of Dead Horse Gulch I’m all right. The mine isn’t far from there.”
If the miner could have looked into the next room he would not have talked so freely concerning the mine. For, in the adjoining apartment was Bill Berry. He listened intently to what Nestor said, and soon was able to tell, from the conversation, who the occupants in the room next to him were.
“A gold mine, eh?” said Bill, softly. “I reckon Noddy and I will get in on that deal. We must profit by this. I wish Noddy would hurry up. We must follow those young cubs.”
Bill, in a measure, was stranded at the hotel. He had reached it after leaving Noddy the night previous, and expected his companion to follow, after repairing the auto, and pick him up. But the encounter between Noddy and the Motor Boys made the former change his plans, and he ran the machine through the village without stopping for Berry. Later, however, Noddy came back and got his companion.
For some time Nestor and the boys conversed about the gold mine, the man telling the lads many stories of western life. Jerry had completed his purchases by dusk, the auto tanks were refilled with gasolene and water, and the start was made early the next morning.
A few hours of travel brought the adventurers to the Mississippi River, and crossing it, they found themselves in Missouri. For several days the auto journeyed on, and Kansas was more than half traversed.
One hot afternoon, passing over a road that led across the rolling prairie, Bob, who was steering, looked ahead and noticed quite a cloud of dust.
“Looks like a whirlwind coming,” he remarked.
Nestor stood up and peered forward.
“So it is, but not the kind you’re used to,” he said.
“What kind is it?”
“Cowboys, an’ they’re headed right for us. I expect there’ll be some fun presently,” and the miner began loading his big revolver.
“Will they—will they kill us?” asked Bob.
“Well, no; not exactly kill you,” spoke the miner, slowly, “but they’ll try to scare you to death, and that’s about as bad.”
The wind now bore to the ears of the boys a thundering sound. It was the rapid hoof-beats of the cowboys’ ponies as they raced along. As yet nothing of the riders could be seen because of the dust.
Suddenly there came from the center of the cloud a series of terrific yells, punctuated by a score of revolver shots. At the same time forty cowboys were disclosed to the astonished gaze of the Cresville lads. Bob stopped the machine, for it was fairly surrounded by a circle of the rough riders.
“Throw up your hands!” yelled one who seemed to be the leader of the herders. He was astride a black pony, and as he spoke he leveled two big revolvers at the party in the auto.
Tremblingly, the boys obeyed.
“I mean you, too, you old greaser on the back of this new-fangled stage coach!” exclaimed the leader, waving his gun at Nestor. “Put up your hands, an’ do it mighty suddint!”
Nestor’s reply was a shot from his revolver, and the hat of the leader went spinning in the air.
“Here!” cried the cowboy, angrily, but not returning the fire, “don’t you know better than to shoot a gentleman’s hat off?”
“Gentlemen?” inquired Nestor, standing up and surveying the bunch of cattlemen, with a smile. “I don’t see any.”
There was a laugh among the herdsmen at the discomfiture of their leader, and seeing the joke was against him, the man on the black pony joined in the merriment.
“We didn’t intend no harm nohow,” he said. “We’re jest out for a lark, an’ we seen your Old Nick wagon comin’ along. No offense I hope. We was only jokin’!”
“Don’t mention it,” said Nestor, who seemed to know how to take the cowboys. “I suppose my friends may now lower their hands,” for Jerry, Ned and Bob still held their arms aloft.
“Sure!” cried the leader, quickly. “Come on, boys, three cheers for the tenderfeet!” he exclaimed, turning to his companions.
The cheers were given with a will, some of the more exuberant of the cow-punchers firing their guns in the air.
“Some of us boys would like mighty well to take a little spin in that shebang,” spoke the leader to Nestor. “S’pose we could take a few turns?”
“I reckon so,” answered the miner, and he spoke a few quick words to Jerry, advising that the wish of the cowboys be complied with, as they might, in their recklessness, make trouble if they were denied.
Jerry took Bob’s place at the wheel, the others got out and the leader of the cowboys and two of his companions got into the auto. They were delighted with the way Jerry spun the machine along. By turns nearly all of the cattle rustlers were given a short journey in the car.
Then three, who seemed full of the spirit of mischief, took their seats. No sooner had Jerry started off with them than the cowboy in the seat with him tried to grab the steering wheel.
“Hold on there!” exclaimed the boy.
“That’s all right, sonny,” said the cowboy. “I reckon I can run this as well as you. Let me have a turn at it. I’ll show you what’s what!”
Jerry was firm in his refusal to let the man run the machine. He knew the cattle-puncher would speedily come to grief. Nestor observed the little difficulty and appealed to the leader to use his persuasion on the refractory fellow.
But the latter’s two companions now joined in his demand, and Jerry was being roughly handled as the men sought to put him from his seat. Suddenly the boy brought the car to a stop. He had a plan in mind.
“Did you ever see an automobile turn a somersault?” he asked the man who had first wanted to steer.
“No, I didn’t, sonny,” was the answer.
“Would you like to see it?”
“Bet your boots.”
“I can’t do it with you in, it takes experts to work that trick,” went on Jerry. “If you will kindly get out and allow my friends to get back in, I think I can surprise you.”
“Whoop!” yelled the cowboys in the auto, as they descended. “Whoop! Now for some fun!”
Jerry drove the car to where Nestor, Bob and Ned were standing. He motioned them to get in, and they obeyed, wondering what he was going to do. The cowboys, gathered in a wide circle about the machine, looked on in anticipation of seeing the auto do a flip-flop.
“Hold fast!” cautioned Jerry to his companions in the car. They did so. The next instant the boy put on full power and dashed straight at the encircling ring of cattlemen.
“Whoop! Watch it turn over!” yelled some of the cowboys.
But Jerry kept straight on. Nearer and nearer he came to the ring. At length, ten feet away, when he feared he would have to put on the emergency brake to avoid a collision, the nervous mustangs in front of the car broke into a frightened run and dashed over the prairie, while Jerry guided the car away from the herdsmen, who were soon left far behind.
“I told them I’d give ’em a surprise, and I did,” said Jerry. “I didn’t promise to make the auto turn a flip-flop, I only asked them if they ever saw it done. Well, I never did, either. I guess things are about evened up.”
The astonished cries of the cattlemen left no doubt but that Jerry’s trick to escape from them had been very much of a surprise.
“They didn’t intend any harm,” said Nestor. “I know the character of cowboys. They’re full of fun an’ thoughtless. It’s jest as well we got away, though. No tellin’ what damage they’d have done to the machine.”
The auto rolled along for several miles and the occupants were beginning to think of supper, which they planned to eat in a small town about three miles further on.
“What’s that?” asked Ned, pointing off to the left of the road. The others looked, and saw strolling over the prairie a peculiar figure.
It was that of a little man, wearing a big, flapping brimmed hat. The old fellow held a big butterfly net in his right hand, and a large, green box in the other. On his back was slung a bag. Every now and then the stranger would raise the net high in the air and bring it down with a swoop.
“That’s funny,” remarked Jerry.
“Looks to me like he was looney,” suggested Nestor.
Jerry brought the machine to a stop. The queer little man came nearer. His eyes were staring in front of him at something he seemed to desire to capture in the net. Whatever it was it continually escaped him.
At length the odd figure was close to the automobile. Yet the little man did not notice the car. Suddenly his eyes glanced at one of the big front tires. The boys looked and saw perched on the rubber a small, brown butterfly.
“Softly—softly!” exclaimed the little man, speaking to himself. “Easy now. I have you, my beauty. Long have you escaped me, but I am on your trail. Ah! Don’t move now. Softly! There!”
He banged the net down on the tire, sprang forward and caught the meshes between his fingers. Through his bespectacled eyes he peered eagerly at what he thought he had captured. A disappointed look came on his face.
“Got away again!” he muttered. Then he looked up and saw the party in the auto watching him. He did not seem in the least surprised. At once his eyes fastened on Jerry.
“Don’t move! Don’t move! I beg of you!” he cried to the boy. “Don’t stir as you value your life. I’ll lose one thousand dollars if you move the hundredth part of an inch! Easy now. Ah! There you are, my little brown beauty. Don’t move, my boy, and I’ll catch it in a second!”
Somewhat puzzled at the little man’s words, Jerry sat still. His companions saw on his back the little brown butterfly that had escaped from the tire.
Quickly the little man brought his net down on Jerry’s shoulders. Once more the meshes were eagerly grasped, and this time it seemed with success, for the little man set up a yell of delight and capered about like a boy who has found a hornets’ nest.
“I’ve got it! I’ve got it!” he cried. “One of the rarest butterflies that exist. I’ve been chasing after this one all day. I knew I’d get it. But pardon me, gentlemen. No doubt you are surprised. Allow me to introduce myself. Professor Uriah Snodgrass, A. M., Ph.D., M. D., F. R. G. S., etc.”
“Is that all, pardner?” asked Nestor, with a grin.
“I contemplate taking the degree of B. A. this winter, when I have completed my study of the fauna and flora of the prairies,” replied the little man.
Jerry introduced himself and his companions, and said they were making a tour across country.
“Just what I am doing myself,” said Professor Snodgrass. “I am collecting specimens of rare plants, stones, bugs, butterflies, in fact, anything that can add to knowledge and science. I have been out all day——”
He stopped talking and made a sudden grab at the sleeve of Nestor’s coat.
“What’s the matter?” exclaimed the miner. “Rattlesnake?”
“Pardon me!” replied the professor. “There was a very scarce specimen of what is commonly called the potato bug on you, and I wanted it.”
“I’d rather you’d have it than me,” observed Nestor.
“Thank you,” replied Professor Snodgrass, as he placed the bug, together with the butterfly, in his green box. “What was I saying?”
“That you had been out all day,” repeated Jerry.
“Oh, yes! I left town early this morning, and my labors have been richly repaid. See, I have my box and bag nearly full.”
He showed the box. Through the glass top the boys could see that it was full of toads, grasshoppers, small snakes, lizards, bugs, butterflies and bees. The bag was loaded with stones, grass, pieces of wood, plants and flowers.
“It has been a grand day,” went on the professor, enthusiastically, “and I haven’t had a bit of dinner.”
“None of that for mine,” put in Nestor. “I wouldn’t go without my meals for all the bugs and stones in the world.”
“Ah, but you are not a naturalist,” observed the professor, wiping his bald head.
“Did you walk all the way?” asked Ned.
“No; I had a horse. And, bless my soul, I’ve forgotten what I did with the beast. I got off him early this morning to chase after that brown butterfly and I left the horse standing somewhere on the prairie.”
“He evidently was too fond of your company to leave you, however,” said Jerry.
“Why so, young man?” and the professor gazed up through his spectacles.
“Because that is evidently him coming along back there,” and Jerry pointed to a horse slowly approaching.
“Ah, yes! There he is. I’m glad I didn’t lose him, for I suppose the man from whom I hired him would have been angry.”
“I guess yes,” spoke Nestor, in a whisper.
“If you are going into town we’ll ride along with you,” said Ned. “That is, if your horse isn’t afraid of automobiles.”
“I don’t think he is afraid of anything,” replied the professor. “I captured a fine specimen of grasshopper on his left ear this morning, and he never shied when I put the net over his head.”
The little man, seeing that his bag and box were safely strapped to his back, and folding up his net, mounted the horse that had approached where he was standing and started off alongside of the auto, which Jerry ran slowly.
The boys learned that the professor was stopping in the same town where they planned to spend the night.
“We’ll be there very soon now,” observed the little man, “and I’ll be glad of it, for I’m hungry.”
Suddenly, from behind, there came a wild chorus of yells and shouts, revolver shots mingling with the noise.
“It’s the cowboys coming back!” cried Ned.
“Nonsense; they are miles behind us,” observed Nestor.
“Well, they’re some kind of cowboys, anyhow,” cried Jerry. “And they’re after us.”
Bang! bang! went the guns. “Whoop!” yelled the cattlemen who were riding like mad. “Stop the horse thief!” they shouted.
Nearer and nearer came the cattlemen, a bunch similar to those who had wanted to run the auto.
“They seem to be after us,” observed Bob.
“We haven’t stolen any horses,” said Ned.
“What’s all the noise about?” asked Professor Snodgrass, suddenly becoming aware that there was some commotion. He was riding close to the auto.
There came a hissing, whistling sound in the air. A long, thin line shot forward. A loop settled around the professor’s neck. The next instant he was jerked, none too gently, from the back of his horse and fell to the ground. He had been lassoed from behind by one of the cowboys.
Jerry shut off the power and the auto stopped. In a few seconds it was surrounded by a crowd of angry men. Several of them drew their revolvers, while two or three busied themselves in securely binding the poor professor.
“What’s all this for?” asked Nestor, getting ready to draw his gun.
“I don’t know as it’s any of your business, unless you’re in on the game,” spoke a dark-complexioned cowboy, who seemed to be the leader.
“What game?” asked the miner.
“Stealing horses,” was the reply.
“Who’s stolen any nags around here?” demanded Nestor.
“That bald-headed galoot!” exclaimed the cowboy. “We want him for taking that pony he was riding. It belongs to One-Eyed Pete.”
“He never stole that!” exclaimed Jerry.
“He didn’t, eh? Well, he can tell that to Judge Lynch. There’s only one thing happens to horse thieves in this country.”
“Swing him up!” yelled the cowboys, yanking Professor Snodgrass to his feet.