The Auto Boys' Quest

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER XII

  DISCOVERED

  It was Sunday morning in Camp Golden. The name had been bestowed byPaul, always fond of the high-sounding or romantic. And although David,with customary pessimism, proposed that the broad, shelving ledge becalled "Camp Golden--It's-Barely-Possible" instead, Jones' suggestionwas accepted; partly because no one cared, in particular; partly becausehis name possessed euphony, if not positive significance.

  Anyway, Sunday morning it was and breakfast of coffee, corn cakes andbacon, with strawberries after, rather than before the principal part ofthe meal, was just over. The Auto Boys, in various attitudes of ease,made no immediate haste to clear away the dishes.

  Paul Jones sat on a cushion on the ground, with legs crossed like atailor on his bench. Billy made himself comfortable, on a convenientbox, both hands clasped around an up-turned knee--a favorite attitude ofhis,--while Phil and Dave in equally unconventional positions occupiedcamp stools. Their places were at opposite sides of an old-time trunkwhich, turned half over, served as a table. Newspapers--quickly disposedof in the fire when soiled,--no need to _wash them_--did duty as atablecloth.

  It was a cheerful, pleasant scene, there amid the shade and sunshine andgreen leaves. A low tent was erected with its back to the rocky cliff atthe rear of the ledge. Here were accommodated two beds of hemlock twigsspread upon the ground and covered with blankets, also a box which, inaddition to holding wearing apparel and the like, served as a kind ofcenter table. Its lid was pretty well littered with an assortment ofyoung gentlemen's belongings this morning--an odd mixture of neckties,collars, socks, clothes-brush, shoe brush, a revolver, fishing tackle, ahatchet and a bottle of olives. Larger items of wearing apparel hung ona line along the tent's rear wall.

  In the shallow cave shelves formed by building up broad, flat stoneslike a series of steps, accommodated sundry tinware, dishes and cannedprovisions. A perfect cooling system, made by diverting a part of thewater from the spring to a small excavation in the gravelly floor of thecave, afforded proper storage for a crock of butter and a pitcher ofmilk set down in the little pool. Here, also, a bucket of otherprovisions of a perishable nature was similarly disposed. Not even thefamous spring-houses of early days could have been more serviceable ordelightful.

  The campfire was placed not quite in front of the tent, as the custom isif prevailing winds do not blow the smoke in, but quite to one side. Itwas the width of the ledge, rather than the winds, however, which inthis instance made desirable the location chosen. It would not do forChef Billy to have to work at the extreme edge of the declivity thatbroke sharply down to the valley below--the "jumping off place," Jonescalled it.

  The improvised table was almost directly in front of the tent, butslightly toward the right, the fire being on the left. Still further tothe right was a rough shelter for the car made of poles with a tarpaulinand sundry green branches spread over them. Here were stored, likewise,a couple of axes--brought all the way from the Retreat in Gleason'sravine--and numerous other tools, spades and a pickaxe included.

  "And now we're so comfortably settled, the pity is it's Sunday, and--"

  "And we told the folks we'd keep track of the days of the week, and theysort of took it for granted from that that we'd observe the seventh,"broke in Phil Way, finishing the sentence Billy Worth began. "Prettygood day to write some letters home, for one thing. And those othermatters you may have in mind, such as certain things that have been inthe woods, all undisturbed for a good many years, will probably keeptill to-morrow."

  "If there had just been a text announced we'd have had a regular sermonalready," quoth Paul Jones, with that inimitable grin that made hisplain, freckled face delightfully attractive.

  "Why, if a text is all you want, I'll give you one," spoke Wayinstantly. "It isn't from the Bible but is a good text, anyway. 'Tothine own self be true.' It means just this: That we should not, awayoff here in the wilderness, and no fellow should when away by himselfanywhere, be any less decent and respectable than he would be whereeverybody knows all that is going on. It means enough more than this,but the point for us is that it is just as much Sunday here as it is athome. We'll be civilized."

  "Well, that is a sure-enough sermon and a pretty good one, too," saidMacLester, quite soberly. "We'll sing something, and it will be thesame as going to church, almost."

  Dave liked singing at any time, it may be remarked parenthetically, andhis bass and Paul's tenor did make the vocal efforts of the quartettevery pleasing. So now they sang "America," "Lead, Kindly Light," "TheOld Oaken Bucket," "Onward, Christian Soldiers," and "Tenting on the OldCamp Ground." And although it must be admitted that their selectionswere of wide variety, they were all full of the spirit of love,thanksgiving and kindness and certainly not the slightest irreverencewas intended if any there was.

  "No, sir! We'll sing no more till the dishes are washed and the camp, tosay nothing of ourselves, put in some kind of order," announced BillyWorth in answer to Dave's, "What else do we all know?" He began a rapidcollection of the tin plates, cups and the like, but suddenly paused.

  "Automobile!" cried Paul at the same instant.

  All four boys rushed to an extreme point of the ledge, which commanded apartial view of the public road. Again the horn of a car sounded andthey were just in time to see a heavy roadster, laden with traps andbaggage and three lads of their own age as passengers, sweep over thebridge and, more slowly, up the stiff rise beyond.

  "Pickton and Gaines and Perth!" cried Worth in astonishment. "And--"

  "What do you know about that?" demanded Mr. Paul Jones in similar tones;and again he said, "What _do_ you know about that?"--not, apparently,because he had reason to suppose that any of his friends had informationpertaining especially to the Chosen Trio, or even because he expected togain intelligence of any description. Perhaps he really looked for noanswer to his inquiry. (In which case it would be difficult to say justwhy he made it.) At any rate he received none.

  "Well, sir, I never thought they'd have the gumption to carry out theirscheme of following after us," was Phil's comment. "If they only knewhow close they were just a minute ago!"

  "Wouldn't make much difference," observed MacLester, dryly. "They'lllocate us now, but if we keep our wits about us they won't locateanything else."

  "Nothing of the kind!" Worth ejaculated. "Their hustling by so fast isgood enough evidence that they think we are still on ahead somewhere.They'll never think of this woods, but likely only of the races."

  "Sure thing!" put in Paul Jones, in his very positive, opinionated way."Nothing to it but keep out of their sight. They'll go clear through toQueensville, likely. In three days more the whole county around the racecourse will be alive with strange automobiles. They'll never get a lineon us if we keep out of sight. Simply means we've got to watch themsome, though, so's to be sure _they_ aren't watching _us_."

  "Maybe we _had_ better look into what they're doing," Phil acquiescedand all heartily agreed. The fun of the situation, a hide-and-seek gamein automobiles with the whole vicinity of the Gold Cup race course--astretch of territory twenty-five miles in length and as many broad--asthe grounds of action, appealed instantly to each one.

  The best part of it, too, was that the Chosen Trio were "It"--the oneswho must do the searching. The desirable side of the game, as the oneswho were hunted, had fallen to the Auto Boys. Believing as they did,that their hiding place was reasonably secure against discovery, too,and there being never a rule of play to require them to call out or giveany sort of clue to their whereabouts, the prospect became all the moreinteresting to the lads as they talked it over.

  One thing of which all four boys assured one another was that they hadtoo much at stake to incur any sort of risk of their camp being found.Also, they were agreed, there must be no underestimating of theresourcefulness and cunning of the Trio. It was really surprising thatthe latter had succeeded so well thus far in finding the route theThirty traversed. Their evident perseverance in doing so was, as well,ample
indication of their serious intention to do all theythreatened--find out the meaning of the mysterious expedition and playmischief with that undertaking generally.

  All day Saturday the Auto Boys had spent in erecting their permanentcamp and in establishing connections for such part of their food supplyas they could best obtain from some farm. The latter had not been easilyaccomplished. There was little cultivated land in the immediateneighborhood of the great woods. The nearest farmhouse was a half-mileaway and the next one an equal distance beyond.

  Unluckily, too, it had been found necessary to go to the second of thefarms in order to obtain milk. It would mean a two-mile tramp eachmorning, there and back. Either this or a trip in the car, and onaccount of the rough ground between the camp and the public road, thelatter method was hardly desirable, as a daily practice.

  Aside from this inconvenience the young campers were highly pleased withtheir location. They had yet to make arrangements for sending andreceiving mail, but this they had planned to do on Sunday afternoon.Their letters home having been written, the most convenient grocery orother source of general supplies discovered, and all the odd tasksincident to getting settled cleared away, they would be ready on Mondaymorning, they planned, to begin the long contemplated attack upon thesecrets of the great, silent woods.

  But now had come the unexpected arrival of Messrs. Gaines, Pickton andPerth much nearer these scenes than any of the four friends had supposedthey ever would be. It might make an entire revision of the programnecessary.

  "As to that same, we shall see," said Billy Worth, looking up from theletter writing on which, barring numerous interruptions, all wereengaged.

  "How d'ye spell 'barnacles'?" demanded Paul Jones, insistently, the samemoment.

  "Huh! Barnacles! I'll bet that's the Trio," laughed Billy.

  "Lot Jones knows about barnacles," sniffed MacLester.

  "That so? Listen to my letter: 'The insectivorous barnacles on the faceof nature'--meaning Gaines and his bunch, of course--'them would-becutaneous young billy goats'--meaning Gaines and the rest again--'havehurled their preposterous physiognomy unfrequented and unbid into thislocality.'"

  A merry laugh greeted Paul's conclusion and he grinned his own delightwith himself.

  "Still, I bet he don't know what a barnacle is," persisted Dave withgood-natured derision.

  "Why, you certain species of shell fish! What do you mean by yourinsolence?" demanded Jones, with mock dignity. "Barnacles--from theLatin word 'barn,' meaning a kind of stable, and the Greek word'culls,' meaning an inferior kind of anything. Together, then,barnacles--an inferior kind of stable, a--a pig sty, say? So there youhave it; but you might have let it go without forcing me to use such alow word as 'pigs' in the presence of gentlemen, just to make myselfclear in your laborious mental processes."

  Phil and Billy laughed at this sally but went on with their writing.Dave must give one return shot, and it was:

  "Jones, if words were water, you'd have been drowned long ago. The wayyou flounder around in 'em makes me think of a tumble bug climbingupstairs backwards."

  Paul responded only with a solemn "Pooh! pooh!" as if he could not taketime to notice seriously any such childish prattle. And while it must beadmitted that there was nothing at all brilliant or elevating in theexchange of youthful repartee that had taken place, who shall say thatboth did not profit by it?

  They had made each his thrust and parry and, give or take, without athought of losing temper. They had had a few seconds' practice in quickthinking, which is always desirable. The whole difference between abrain of snap and vim and one both slow and dull, is likely to lie inpractice in rapid, accurate work, or the lack of such training, ratherthan in an original difference in capacity.

  Yet it must not be supposed that even Paul and Dave were constantly inan offensive and defensive attitude toward one another. That would neverhave done at all. Sooner or later such a manner would have becomeirritating. The tongue whose words are too frequently sharp, or byconstant habit, other than kind and considerate, will make troubleinevitably.

  By themselves Jones and MacLester rarely indulged in such exchange asthat of this morning. The fun of it was lacking when Phil and Billy werenot by to serve as an audience. Alone together, the two were harmoniousas could be. They were much more apt to differ at other times. Aninstance when they did not, however, occurred directly after the verbalcontest lately recorded.

  "We will make a run to Queensville, get a light lunch there and havedinner in camp to-night," remarked Chef Billy, sealing the letter he hadwritten. He brought his fist down with a whack upon the envelope, notfor sake of emphasis but to make sure of the flap being fast.

  "Aw, Bill! I'm most starved _now_!" protested Paul.

  "Here, too!" MacLester urged. "Something in this air seems to make afellow want to eat all the time."

  "Well, the point is, we've got to be starting. It's nearly noon," Worthanswered.

  "Yes, that's so," Phil Way agreed. "Maybe we better have an egg sandwichor something like that, all around, and it will do for now."

  "Sure!" chirped Jones, emphatically. "Stuff will only spoil if we don'teat it up."

  "Risk anything spoiling around here," was Billy's earnest comment; buthe ordered that frying-pan and eggs be brought him forthwith, while heproceeded to rake together the remnants of the fire.

  The route to Queensville was, for the first part, straight ahead uponthe road bordering the Ship woods. Six miles distant, westerly, thisroad effected a junction with a thoroughfare running to north and south.Distant a mile or two, in the former direction, was the direct road toQueensville. This and the north and south road were both a part of thetwenty-six-mile race circuit.

  It was easy to locate the road to Queensville once Gilroy, with its onegeneral store, half dozen straggling dwellings, a church, a school andblacksmith shop, was reached, for numerous automobiles were traversingthe course of the races in both directions. And how the Auto Boysscanned every car! And what a collection of machines it was!--Runabouts,roadsters and nondescript contrivances, the identity of themanufacturers of which even Billy Worth could not determine. Some hadbeen rebuilt in one way, some another and some were of strictly homeproduction. But among all the cars, fine and otherwise, the lumberingblack and gray Roadster Mr. Soapy Gaines called his own, was not seen.

  In a quiet side street of Queensville the four friends left the Thirty.They were but a few steps from the main thoroughfare upon which thebusiness section was situated, and directly before them, as they turnedinto the street was a sign: "Alameda Headquarters."

  "Here's one of the likely cars, now," exclaimed Phil. "Jim Wilder,cousin of our Mr. Wilder at home, drives her and he's great, they say!"He would have added: "Let's see what they're doing," but already Billy,Dave and Paul had hastened forward, bent on that very mission.

  As the lads approached, the crowd about the entrance to the buildingsurged suddenly away and, waving his hand to all to stand back, a man inoveralls and jumper pulled the heavy door about and it swung shut with abang. The curious ones thus barred from further view of what waswithin--the racing car and drivers, probably--formed an assemblage sodense that those nearest the door were not visible to the Auto Boys, atthe edge of the gathering. But immediately the people began dispersing.A minute later, through the thinning ranks, Paul Jones suddenlydiscovered the Chosen Trio.

  He had just time to whisper and, with his friends, slip back of a groupnear the curbing when Gaines, Pickton and Perth passed at the inner sideof the walk. There appeared no room to doubt the Trio would go straightforward and, when they were fairly beyond the crowd, Billy and Phil,still watching them, stepped back into the open to get a better view.

  The movement was unfortunate. Freddy Perth chanced to turn and his eyesrested at once upon the lads. With a gay laugh he caught the hands ofPickton and Gaines, wheeling them around. Pointing with his thumb, hisarm half outstretched:

  "How do you _do-o-o_?" he called triumphantly to the crestfallen Way andWorth.r />
  "Hello!" Phil responded with a frown, but looking about as if to see howBilly was bearing up, he was astonished to find himself alone.