CHAPTER IX
AN UNEXPECTED BLOW!
For a moment it would have been hard to lay which of them was morecompletely staggered and amazed.
"What are you doing here?" Harry gasped, finally.
And then, all at once, it came over him that it did not matter whatErnest answered, that there could be no reasonable and good explanationfor what he had caught Graves doing.
"You sneak!" he cried. "What are you doing here--spying on us?"
He sprang forward, and Graves, with a snarling cry of anger, lunged tomeet him. Had he not been handicapped by his lame ankle, Harry mighthave given a good account of himself in a hand-to-hand fight withGraves, but, as it was, the older boy's superior weight gave him almosthis own way. Before Jack, who was running up, could reach them, Gravesthrew Harry off. He stood looking down on him for just a second.
"That's what you get for interfering, young Fleming!" he said. "There'ssomething precious queer about you, my American friend. I fancy you'llhave to do some explaining about where you've been tonight." Harry wasstruggling to his feet. Now he saw the papers in Graves' hand. "Youthief!" he cried. "Those papers belong to me! You've stolen them! Givethem here!" But Graves only laughed in his face.
"Come and get them!" he taunted. And, before either of the scouts couldrealize what he meant to do he had started one of the motorcycles,sprung to the saddle, and started. In a moment he was out of sight,around a bend in the road. Only the put-put of the motor, rapidly dyingaway, remained of him. But, even in that moment, the two he left behindhim were busy. Jack sprang to the other motorcycle, and tried to startit, but in vain. Something was wrong; the motor refused to start.
"That's what he was doing when I saw him first," cried Harry, with aflash of inspiration. "I thought it was Dick, trying to start hismotor--it was Graves trying to keep us from starting it! But he can'thave done very much--I don't believe he had the time. We ought to beable to fix it pretty soon."
"It's two miles to the repair place!" said Jack, blankly.
"Not to this repair shop," said Harry, with a laugh. The need of promptand efficient action pulled him together. He forgot his wonder atfinding Graves, the pain of his ankle, everything but the instant needof being busy. He had to get that cycle going and be off in pursuit,that was all there was to it.
"Give me a steady light," he directed. "I think he's probablydisconnected the wires of the magneto--that's what I'd do if I wanted toput a motor out of business in a hurry. And if that's all, there's nogreat harm done."
"I don't see how you know all that!" wondered Jack. "I can ride one ofthose things, but the best I can do is mend a puncture, if I should haveone."
"Oh!" said Dick, "it's easy enough," working while he talked. "You see,the motor itself can't be hurt unless you take an axe to it, and breakit all up. But to start you've got to have a spark--and you get thatfrom electricity. So there are these little wires that make theconnection. He didn't cut them, thank Heaven! He just disconnected them.If he'd cut them I might really have been up a tree because that's thesort of accident you wouldn't provide for in a repair kit."
"It isn't an accident at all," said Jack, literally.
"That's right," said Harry. "That's what I meant, too. Now let's see. Ithink that's all. Good thing we came up when we did or he'd have cut thetires to ribbons. And there are a lot of things I'd rather do than rideone of these machines on its rims--to say nothing of how long the wheelswould last if one tried to go fast at all."
He tried the engine; it answered beautifully.
"Now is there a telephone in your father's house, Jack?"
"Sure there is. Why?" for Jack was plainly puzzled.
"So that I can call you up, of course! I'm going after Graves. LaterI'll tell you who he is. I'm in luck, really. He took Dick'smachine--and mine is a good ten miles an hour faster. I can race him andbeat him but, of course, he couldn't know which was the fastest. Dick'sis the best looking. I suppose that's why he picked it."
"But where is Dick?"
"That's what I'm coming to. They may have caught him but I hope not. Idon't think they did, either. I think he'll come along here pretty soon.And, if he does, he'll have an awful surprise."
"I'll stay here and tell him--"
"You're a brick, Jack! It's just what I was going to ask you to do. Ican't leave word for him any other way, and I don't know what he'd thinkif he came here and found the cycles and all gone. Then take him homewith you, will you? And I'll ring you up just as soon as I can.Good-bye!"
And everything being settled as far as he could foresee it then, Harrywent scooting off into the night on his machine. As he rode, with thewind whipping into his face and eyes, and the incessant roar of theengine in his ears, he knew he was starting what was likely to prove awild-goose chase. Even if he caught Graves, he didn't know what he coulddo, except that he meant to get back the papers.
More and more, as he rode on, the mystery of Graves' behavior puzzledhim, worried him. He knew that Graves had been sore and angry when hehad not been chosen for the special duty detail. But that did not seem asufficient reason for him to have acted as he had. He remembered, too,the one glimpse of Graves they had caught before, in a place where hedid not seem to belong.
And then, making the mystery still deeper, and defying explanation, asit seemed to him, was the question of how Graves had known, first ofall, where they were, and of how he had reached the place.
He had no motorcycle of his own or he would not have ridden away onDick's machine. He could not have come by train. Harry's head swam withthe problem that presented itself. And then, to make it worse, there wasthat remark Graves had made. He had said Harry would find it hard toexplain where he had been. How did he know where they had been? Whyshould he think it would be hard for them to explain their actions?
"There isn't any answer," he said to himself.
"And, if there was, I'm a juggins to be trying to find it now. I'dbetter keep my mind on this old machine, or it will ditch me! I knowwhat I've got to do, anyhow, even if I don't know why."
Mile after mile he rode, getting the very best speed he could out of themachine. Somewhere ahead of him, he was sure, riding back toward London,was Graves. In this wild pursuit he was taking chances, of course.Graves might have turned off the road almost anywhere. But if he haddone that, there was nothing to be done about it, that much was certain.He could only keep on with the pursuit, hoping that his quarry wasfollowing the straight road toward London. And, to be sure, there wasevery reason for him to hope just that. By this time it was very late.No one was abroad, the countryside was asleep. Once or twice he did findsomeone in the streets of a village as he swept through, then hestopped, and asked it a man on another motorcycle had passed ahead ofhim. Two or three times the yokel he questioned didn't know, twice,however, he did get a definite assurance that Graves was ahead of him.
Somehow he never thought of the outrageously illegal speed he wasmaking. He knew the importance of his errand, and that, moreover, he wasa menace to nothing but the sleep of those he disturbed. No one wasabroad to get in his way, and he forgot utterly that there might be needfor caution, until, as he went through a fair sized town, he suddenlysaw three policemen, two of whom were also mounted on motorcycles,waiting for him.
They waved their arms, crying out to him to stop, and, seeing that hewas trapped, he did stop.
"Let me by," he cried, angrily. "I'm on government service!"
"Another of them?" One of the policemen looked doubtfully at the rest."Too many of you telling that tale tonight. And the last one said therewas a scorcher behind him. Have you got any papers? He had them!"
Harry groaned! So Graves had managed to strike at him, even when he wasmiles away. Evidently he, too, had been held up, evidently, also, he hadused Harry's credentials to get out of the scrape speeding had put himin.
"No, I haven't any credentials," he said, angrily. "But you can see myuniform, can't you? I'm a Boy Scout, and we're all under governmentorders now, lik
e soldiers or sailors."
"That's too thin, my lad," said the policeman who seemed to berecognized as the leader. "Everyone, we've caught for speeding too fastsince the war began has blamed it on the war. We'll have to take youalong, my boy. They telephoned to us from places you passed--they saidyou were going so fast it was dangerous. And we saw you ourselves."
In vain Harry pleaded. Now that he knew that Graves had used hiscredentials from Colonel Throckmorton, he decided that it would befoolish to claim his own identity. Graves had assumed that, and he hadhad the practically conclusive advantage of striking the first blow. SoHarry decided to submit to the inevitable with the best grace he couldmuster.
"All right," he said. "I'll go along with you, officer. But you'll besorry before it's over!"
"Maybe, sir," said the policeman. "But orders is orders, sir, and I'vegot to obey them. Not that I likes running a young gentleman likeyourself in. But--"
"Oh, I know you're only doing your duty, as you see it, officer," hesaid. "Can't be helped--but I'm sorry. It's likely to cause a lot oftrouble."
So he surrendered. But, even while he was doing so, he was planning toescape from custody.
Boy Scout Aviators Page 9