by Roy Rockwood
CHAPTER X
JOSIAH SOMES ON THE WARPATH
Dan Speedwell had gone back to Riverdale with his young friends in amuch disturbed state of mind. That anybody should be mean enough to havetried to utterly ruin the racing car which he and Billy had bought ofMaxey Solomons, not only angered Dan, but hurt him. Like his brother hesuspected who the person was who had chopped down the derrick, and sentit crashing over the edge of the cliff to the bank of the river.
It was eleven o’clock when he reached home. He and Billy were usuallyastir before three each morning, and with the younger boy absent Danwould have all the milking and other chores to do by himself. He did notpropose to arouse his father until about time to start with the milkwagons for Riverdale.
He put away his motorcycle, took his axe and a lantern, and started forthe small woodlot that was a part of the Speedwell farm. That day, whencutting the two timbers that had now fallen over the cliff beside theriver road, Dan had marked several other oak trees of practical use inthis emergency.
“We’ll not go to school in the morning,” decided the older brother; “butwe’ll rig another derrick and get that car out upon the road before moreharm is done.”
Dan went along the county road to the bars and climbed over them intothe few acres of timber Mr. Speedwell owned. He had been hunting ’coonsand ’possums on many a night and was not afraid to fell a tree bylamp-light. He cut away some of the brush, chose the direction in whichhe wished the tree to fall, and set to work with the axe.
The reverberating blows rang through the wood, and the chips flew. Danwas not alone a sturdy youth; he was a good woodsman. In five minutesthe tree fell with a crash that could have been heard afar. And as theecho of it died away our hero was aware of a swiftly approaching soundalong the highroad. It was the throbbing of an automobile, and now ahorn sounded:
“Honk! honk! honk!”
“Joy-riders,” muttered Dan, preparing to trim the tree. “Hello! they’reslowing down.”
The throbbing of the car ceased. The boy was near the edge of the woodand heard voices in a moment. Some of the occupants were getting out ofthe car.
“Hello in there!” shouted a voice. “What luck have you had, brother?”
“They think I’m hunting,” exclaimed Dan. “And I declare! I believe thatis Mr. Armitage. It sounds just like his voice.”
Dan Speedwell picked up his lantern and walked toward the road. For asecond time the jolly voice hailed him:
“Hello! Who’s there? Where’s the dogs?”
“I haven’t any dogs, and I’m not hunting,” explained Dan, coming out tothe bars.
“Hullo!” rejoined the same voice. “Isn’t that young Speedwell?”
“I thought I recognized your voice, Mr. Armitage,” said Dan.
“And Mr. Briggs is here. This is the car you took a ride in Saturdaynight, young man,” and the gentleman laughed. “How are you? I hearJosiah Somes tried to mix you and Mr. Briggs’ car up with the robbery ofthe Farmers’ Bank.”
“He did indeed,” admitted Dan.
“I’m glad to see you again, boy,” said Mr. Briggs, likewise leaning outof the tonneau. “Some of our boys and hired men started out an hour agoafter ’coons. Have you heard or seen anything of them?”
“No, sir. I reckon they went over toward the swamp. We only own a smallpiece of these woods, and the ’coons and ’possums have been driven allaway to the swamp side.”
“There!” exclaimed Mr. Armitage, “I told you I was sure we were takingthe wrong road, Briggs.”
“And we’ve got to go clear around by Meadville to find a road fit todrive this machine over!” exclaimed his friend.
“No, sir,” said Dan, quickly. “You can go into town and turn atPeckham’s Corner. There’s a good road going into the swamp whichbranches from the Port Luther turnpike.”
“I know it!” cried Mr. Armitage. “I remember now.”
“Sure you can find it, Tom?”
“We—ell——”
“Do you know the way, Henri?” asked Mr. Briggs, of the Frenchman at thewheel.
“No, Monsieur,” replied Henri, quickly. “I am not what you call familiarwith the ways.”
Dan could not help offering. Besides, his whole body tingled for anotherride in the swift, easy-running car. And Henri might let him run themachine again!
“I can go with you, Mr. Armitage,” he said, quickly. “We can run aroundto the swamp in half an hour—at night. You won’t mind traveling fast.And the road back here passes within half a mile of our house, althoughthere is no cross-road—not even a wood-team path. I can walk from theturnpike to our house in less than ten minutes.”
“Say, that’s kind of you, Speedwell,” said Mr. Briggs. “But it’s late.Your folks will expect you home.”
“They’re abed. I wasn’t really expecting to go to sleep to-night,” saidDan, laughing. “You see, we have to milk early, and Billy is away. Ihave his share of the work to do, too.”
“I am afraid we are imposing on you,” said Mr. Armitage.
“No, sir.”
“Perhaps the boy is itching to get in Henri’s place again,” laughed theowner of the maroon car.
“Yes, sir; that’s it,” admitted Dan, with a broad smile.
“Jump aboard, then,” said Mr. Briggs. “If Henri wants you to show himhow to properly handle a six-cylinder Postlethwaite, why you may do so.”
The Frenchman’s little, waxed mustache shot up toward his eyebrows in asmile, and he slid over and allowed Dan to take the steering wheel ofthe motor car. The boy laid his axe on the footboard and turned down hislantern and put that in a secure place, too. Then, with a hand on thegear lever and another on the wheel, and his foot on the clutch pedal,he brought the beautiful car into motion as easily as Henri himselfcould have turned the trick.
“You are going to make one fine chauffeur,” whispered Henri, in Dan’sear. “That was magnificent!”
There was nobody else on the road. They came down into Riverdale asswiftly—and almost as silently—as a cloud shadow chasing across awheat-field. The town street lights were quickly in view. They camewithin sight of Peckham’s Corner, just above the Court House.
And there—right in the roadway—suddenly flashed a lantern. It gyratedcuriously, as though the bearer of the lamp was dancing from side toside. And those in the car heard a raucous voice shouting.
“What’s the matter here?” demanded Mr. Briggs, as Dan began to reducespeed.
“Look out, Speedwell!” warned Mr. Armitage. “There’s a rope stretchedacross the road.”
“It’s right at Josiah Somes’ house,” exclaimed Dan.
“Is that fellow going to hold us up?” demanded Briggs.
“Josiah must be on the war-path,” chuckled Mr. Armitage. “He’s outholding up automobilists so as to fill the coffers of the local ’Squireand his own pockets.”
Dan was obliged to shut off power and brake hard. The heavy car barelystopped in season.
“Surrender!” yelled the voice of Mr. Somes. He bore the lantern in onehand, and a revolver of the largest size in the other, and he waved bothof these indiscriminately.
“What’s the matter with you?” demanded Mr. Briggs, wrathfully.
The constable evidently did not recognize the gentleman. He continued topaw the air and make threatening gestures with his weapon, as heshouted:
“Hold up your hands! Pile out of that car! I swear I got ye now, yerobbers, you! Move lively!”
“Say! who do you think you are speaking to?” demanded Mr. Armitage.
“You can’t fool me,” declared the constable wildly. “They jesttelephoned me to stop ye. Ye robbed Colonel Sudds of jewelry and moneythis very night. But I know ye done more than that. You are the fellersthat robbed the Farmers’ Bank on Saturday, and I’m goin’ t’ march ye t’jail for it!”