by Sophie May
CHAPTER III
MR. BILLY WORTH DOES SOME THINKING
"Hello! What's all the feverish bustle about? Good news, I hope!"
This from Mr. Wagg as Billy and Paul, very warm and very red, hustledinto that gentleman's hotel and suddenly stopped, as if they had at thatmoment forgotten what they came for.
"No,--not exactly," said Billy. "Fact is, we have no news at all and itjust makes us feel that we've got to get busy; and that's what we'vebeen doing--hustling up here as hard as ever we could."
"What for? What scent are you on now?" asked the landlord, peering overhis glasses as he leaned upon the register counter. There was a trace ofamusement in his voice.
"That's just it," put in Paul. "We don't know just what scent we _are_on but, by thunder! we've _got_ to get some news of that car!"
"Well, I suppose that nothing succeeds like determination," observed Mr.Wagg kindly. "Still, there's a lot o' misdirected energy in the world."With a sigh he sat down and resumed the afternoon nap which the swiftentrance of the boys had broken in upon.
A large part of Griffin seemed to be occupied quite as was LandlordWagg. How very quiet the little town was this tranquil June afternoon!
"Ginger! I'd just like to take a nap myself; but we've got to keepbusy," mused Billy. The two were seated in big armchairs of the hoteloffice.
"Our basket, Willie Creek's lamp and that old raincoat are in our room.Mr. Hipp brought them and the porter carried them up. Told me so justafter dinner," suggested Paul. "We might tote Willie's lamp over to thegarage."
Straightway up the stairs dashed the two boys. Yes, there at the foot ofthe bed the articles in question were deposited. Again the boys examinedthe lunch hamper inside and out. Again they searched pockets, lining,every shred of the muddy, dirty, wrinkled coat.
How freshly the garment, splashed with the rain and the thick pools ofthe road, brought back to Billy's mind the dismal afternoon when firstthey ventured upon the lonely South Fork! Again, in mental vision, hesaw the Torpedo come over the hill, saw the impossibility of passing themachine if it did not quickly turn out! Then he recalled--howvividly!--the dreadful scene, the Big Six ditched, the rain, the heavy,mist-laden air, the gloom, of approaching darkness.
And in the same train of thought, as he went forward, he seemed to seethe man Hipp and Earnest had told of seeing, marching stolidly along thewet road, carrying the basket stolen from the Six, wearing this veryraincoat and on his head a low, soft cap, his top boots or legginssplashed with mud, the rain pelting him till he stumbled as he walked.How easily the lad's imagination drew for him the picture Alfred Earnestand his friend Hipp described! Then suddenly----
"For the love of cats, Paul Jones, I am one large punkin head! And soare _you!_ And so are _all_ of us!"
Quite naturally young Mr. Jones looked up suddenly, startled not alittle by the extraordinary accusation.
"Wh----"
Paul's intended response was violently interrupted. Knocking his ownhead with one pair of knuckles, Billy brought those of his other handdown forcibly on his friend's tawny hair, at the same time and not once,but repeatedly.
Not until Jones escaped beyond reach, which he did by tumblingungracefully backward over a chair, as he retreated from the mysteriousattack, did Worth explain himself.
"That man--the drunken fellow we saw Fobes arrest on Saturday night--youremember? He's the fellow who wore this raincoat, stole our basketand--who knows?--maybe the car! Plain as daylight! Why didn't we see itbefore? The cap, the leather leggins all caked with mud--I couldn't seeit all plainer if he stood in this very room!"
For a few seconds Paul was lost in a confusion of thoughts, but heextricated himself at last, saying:
"Thunder! I do remember that that fellow Fobes got wore leggins--yes,and the cap! But--why, a lot of people wear 'em for fishing tripsand----"
"Yes, and chauffeurs wear 'em," put in Billy, heatedly. "I say, come on!We'll have a look and we'll get something out of this, you bet!"
Whether Paul would or would not wager, however, he did not say. What hedid reply was: "Honest, Bill, I hope there's something to it,but--anyhow, let's not be too sure!"
Chief Fobes, dozing the early afternoon away in his dingy office,sleepily called to the boys, "Come in!"
They entered. Needless to say, also, the haste and earnestness inBilly's manner fully awakened the officer of the law rather moreabruptly than often happened.
"We want to find out about a fellow you arrested Saturday evening. Worea cap and high boots or leggins," spoke young Mr. Worth in a singlebreath.
"Soaked for ten days in the cooler," said Mr. Fobes, indifferently. Bywhich it will be understood that the village magistrate had imposed uponthe man a fine of ten days in jail.
"Well, who is he? Can we see him?" Worth continued rapidly.
"He's just a bum, I guess. I don't know him and--well, you can askWillie Creek whether I know everybody around here or whether I don't. Hewas hanging around all Saturday afternoon and drinking. By night I hadto pinch him."
With a show of real interest Chief Fobes now heard the story Billy toldand the belief that the man in the lockup could throw light on thedisappearance of the Big Six. Slowly, very slowly, nevertheless, theofficer rose, yawned and led the way to the corridor below, soconducting the boys to a group of steel cells in a basement at the rearof the building. The man they sought was lying on an iron bunk. Hestepped forward when Mr. Fobes called sharply, "Here, you! Step up!"quite as if the unfortunate were a refractory horse.
"Might I ask you a question?" began Billy. He and Paul were both keepingpretty close to Mr. Fobes as the prisoner, still in the mud-stainedboots and garments, approached the bars.
"I'll do the talkin'," put in the officer bluntly. Then to the man whopeered out from the gloomy cell, "What was you doing on the South Forkroad last--last Friday?"
"I don't know anything about any South Fork road. What ye givin' us? Icome in here from Rochester, hittin' the road an' lookin' fer a job inthe country, an' I told the judge the same thing, didn't I?"
"It don't go, Billy. You can't throw any bluff here," said Fobes with anair of familiarity, but shaking his head coldly, too. "You was seen onthe South Fork road an' there's an automobile man lookin' for you. Guesshe wants to give you a raincoat you lost somewhere."
This, of course, was just the kind of talk that Mr. Fobes himself hadtermed a "bluff" and, in the vernacular, nothing else. Whether theprisoner thought so or otherwise, for a few seconds he made no reply.Then as if feeling his way carefully, he said: "Somebody lookin' for me,eh? Tell 'im where I am. Or mebbe he knows it."
"It ain't no go, I tell you," said Fobes sharply. "There's a littlematter of a patent dinner basket on you straight. Swipin' grub fromboys, too! Ain't you ashamed of yourself? You don't happen to rememberwhat you left in the raincoat, do ye?"
Billy and Paul were far from approving this kind of questioning. Yetthey could see the object of Chief Fobes, which was to frighten andconfuse the prisoner by making him believe a great deal was known abouthim, thereby leading him into admissions that would pave the way towardgaining a complete confession from him.
"I don't know nothin' about a coat, boss; but who's lookin' fer me?"called the one behind the bars as the officer and the boys started tomove away.
"You'll find that out quick enough," said Fobes with a harsh laugh. Buthe did not pause and led the way to his own office again.
"Now," said he, "you have seen how we go about it. We've set the yeastto workin'. He'll be more ready to let out a little by the time I takehis supper in to him."
Chief Fobes was evidently much pleased with himself but he was notprepared for the rather unusual incident that followed.
"Where's the kid that said might he ask me a question?" inquired theprisoner when the officer visited his cell again. "I want to see 'im ifI can, boss!"
Billy was called only after Mr. Fobes had failed to extract from the manany information whatever. Cautioning the lad to tell the pr
isoner littleor nothing, the policeman, who was also turnkey, it will have beennoticed, took Worth into the lockup and left him.
"What was yer question, bub! Mebbe I might answer it," said the fellow.He held a bar of the cell in each hand and leaned forward on his elbows.His face, pressed between the steel rods, had a really hideous look.
"Where's the Big Six automobile that dinner basket came from? Now youtell me that and you'll make a friend. You seem to need one all right."
Billy was surprised by his own boldness in this speech. The fact was theman's manner had quite startled him.
The prisoner laughed in a coarse guffaw. Abruptly checking himself, hesaid in a whisper: "You get me out o' here. Swipe the keys--any old way!Pass me in a saw--just so's I get out to-night, an' I'll show you whereyou can find that automobile, good as ever she was. And--" the fellowswore venomously and wickedly--"you blab this an' I'll get ye fer it ifI go to the chair!"
"Might as well be reasonable," spoke the boy, frightened by the verynature of the proposal, but scarcely showing it. "I'll help you get outif it means just paying a fine for you, if you can do all you say,but----"
"Do all I _say?_ Don't you think I couldn't?"
Billy hardly knew what to say. For a few seconds he made no answer.
"Aw, I was just a kiddin' ye," the fellow said with a coarse laughagain, as if he had quite suddenly changed his mind.
"Oh! All right!" the boy replied indifferently. And then, moved by asudden impulse, whose origin he could never have explained, he steppedclose to the cell, "Mr. Smith, of Buffalo, has been staying at ourhotel. Maybe you'd like to see _him_," he said in a low tone. "He waslooking for someone and I shouldn't be surprised from what I saw of himthat you are the man."
In general it was a chance shot--a random word without particular aim,such as Fobes had used in his questioning, but Billy fully believed thatthe remark struck home.
"Say, kid, say, on the level is he the party His Nibbs was talkin'about? Look 'e here, bub, you play fair with the old man that's down an'out. You won't lose nothin' by it. They's none of 'em plays fair anymore or I wouldn't be here. You slip them very words to Smith fer me,and don't ye breathe it to His Nibbs."
"Where's our machine?" persisted Worth soberly.
Again a vile oath came from the dirty lips pressed between the bars. Theprisoner's pleading manner had changed to anger. "Jest like 'em all,ain't ye?" he said with a vicious sneer in his tone. Then he walkedaway. Nothing Billy could say served to draw another word from him andthat young gentleman could only take his leave. This he did with thewords: "We are over at the American hotel. You may want to send for uswhen you get a little sense."
"How was I to know what to say to him? Wish Phil had been there," saidBilly earnestly, telling Paul all about the interview later.
"Gee whizz! We're getting warm, though, I'll bet!" cried Jones withenthusiasm.
"If it wasn't just guesswork that Pickem or Smith--whatever his realname is--knows something about this man in the lockup, who in turn knowssomething about our car! Pickem certainly does know something about theTorpedo, but he's gone. Even if he might help us, it's too late."
The boys spent the evening trying to realize, with Willie Creek's help,some value from the day's developments. They were late getting to bedand still sleeping soundly when Phil and Dave, the following morning,were well on the road to Pittsfield. And now to return to the latterpair of eager searchers, it may be briefly stated that their day's workwas without results. Except that they had made the theft of the Big Sixthe more widely known, they felt their efforts in Pittsfield to havebeen a total failure. At nine o'clock on Tuesday night they were on aPullman, their tickets reading "Syracuse."
There is in the city named, as everyone knows, an automobile club ofmore than usual excellence. Whether it be in helping a pair of boystoward the recovery of a lost car, or the more general work of erectingroad signs, mapping off the best detours around road construction workand informing the public of the same, nothing is too small or too largea task to receive intelligent attention. And it was a fortunate chance,therefore, that Phil and Dave chose Syracuse to be the scene of theirnext endeavors.
Very early Wednesday morning the two boys began their inquiries--began aday of work and developments, following rapidly one upon another, andmore startling at their close than the strangest dreams may often be.