“Now be careful—” commenced Dick. And then stopped short, for a sudden snapping sound reached his ears.
“What’s that?” cried Sam, in alarm.
“The brake—it‘s broken!” answered Tom. And then he set his teeth grimly, to try to guide the heavy touring car down the steep hill without disaster.
CHAPTER V
LOOKING FOR THE LOST FLYING MACHINE
It was the foot brake that had given away. The hand brake was still fit for use, but each of the Rover boys remembered with dismay that this brake had been loose for some time. They had thought to tighten it up, but other matters had claimed their attention, and they had not deemed it absolutely necessary before taking the short trip to Rayville, since on starting the other brake had seemed to be in good order.
“Can you do it, Tom?” asked Dick, quickly, as the big car gathered headway on the steep hill.
“I’ll try!” was Tom’s reply. “But it’s some hill.”
“If only we don’t meet anything,” put in Sam. “Blow the horn, Dick!”
The oldest Rover boy did as requested, leaning over from the back seat to do so, and thus leaving Tom free to manipulate the steering wheel. Dick also set the hand brake a notch tighter, but this did little good, since it was the bands that were worn.
On and on bounded the touring car, down the long hill. On both sides the road was bound by rocks and trees, with nasty gullies in several spots. Here and there were “resting spots” for teams, and over these indentations flew the automobile with jolts that threatened to break all the springs at once.
“The turn! Beware of the turn!” cried Sam and Dick together, when about three-quarters of the hill had been passed.
Tom nodded but said not a word. He had thrown the motive power to the low gear, and thus the engine was doing something towards holding the car back.
Suddenly Dick uttered a cry, and the next minute Sam saw him dive down to the bottom of the tonneau and bring up several long ropes to which were attached a number of hooks. He had placed these in the automobile for possible use in getting the Dartaway out of the woods or from among the rocks.
With care Dick took the hooks and threw them out of the machine. At the same time he leaned over and allowed the ends of the ropes to catch on the swiftly-revolving wheels of the machine.
“Maybe they’ll hold something—anyway I hope so,” he said.
They had now reached the turn. Tom was running as closely as possible to the inner side and Dick had commenced to toot the horn again. With a slipping and sliding, the touring car went over the dirt and stones, rushing nearer and nearer to the gully on the outer edge of the highway.
“Look! Look!” screamed Sam, a second later. “A carriage, and three ladies in it!”
He was right, and the carriage was less than a hundred yards ahead. But just now Tom could think of nothing but the turn, for the machine was running closer than ever to the gully. If they went down in that the touring car would most likely turn turtle, and they might all be killed.
But they did not go down into the gully. By sheer good luck Tom managed to throw the automobile back into the roadway, two wheels for a second spinning in midair. Then he had to reckon with the other danger—that of hitting the carriage with the three ladies.
The ladies had heard the tooting of the auto horn and had tried to draw up to the side of the road. But the incline was still steep and the two horses evidently did not like the looks of that gully.
“You can’t pass them!” groaned Sam, and just then came a grinding from underneath the touring car. This was followed by a series of jerks, and then came one final jerk that brought the automobile to a standstill and all but sent the Rover boys flying over the engine hood.
“Well, we’ve stopped!” panted Tom, when he could catch his breath. “I guess the brake held somehow.”
“No, it didn’t,” answered Sam. “It’s another brake, one that Dick heaved overboard.” And he pointed to the ropes and hooks. One hook, the biggest, had caught in a rock lining the gully, and the ropes were in a mess around the wheels and the rear axle.
“Good for you!” murmured Tom. “It saved us from running into that carriage.”
“Are you men going on?” cried one of the ladies, noticing that the automobile had come to a stop.
“Not just yet!” sang out Dick. “You can go ahead if you wish. We’ll wait until you get down to the bottom of the hill—and maybe we’ll wait longer,” he added in an undertone.
“You scared us nearly to death,” said another of the ladies, tartly; and then the carriage went on and was soon lost to sight on a side road.
The three youths alighted, and after blocking the wheels with stones, so that it might not get away unexpectedly, commenced an inspection of the car.
“The ropes wouldn’t do much damage but the hooks might,” said Dick. “But I couldn’t think of anything else to do.”
“It was grand of you to do that,” answered Tom, warmly. “I was a fool to let her out as I did,” he added bluntly. “I’ll know better next time.”
That was Tom, often headstrong but quick to acknowledge a fault.
Not without much difficulty did the three youths manage to get the ropes disentangled from the rear wheels and the back axle. It was found that one of the hooks had gone into a tire, causing a blowout that, in the general excitement, nobody had noticed. But otherwise everything seemed to be all right, apart, of course, from the broken brake rod, and the boys were thankful.
“I guess we can manage to run to the nearest blacksmith shop,” said Dick, “and there we can get the rod mended.”
“What a lucky thing that big hook caught in the rock!” cried Sam.
“It’s the one thing that saved us from going into the carriage,” returned Tom, and his face was very sober as he spoke. For a time being he did not feel like running the car further and readily agreed to let Sam take hold, after another tire had been adjusted. To keep the automobile from going down the remainder of the hill too rapidly, they allowed one of the ropes to remain on the rear axle, and to this tied a small fallen tree, that made an excellent drag.
When the level roadway was gained once more they made good time to Carwood, and there called on the blacksmith to repair the broken brake rod. While waiting they ran into Tom Bender, and the boy was very anxious to know all about the lost aeroplane.
“Say, but you fellows have a cinch!” he said, in admiration. “You get what you please. Wish I was in your shoes!”
“You’d not want to be in our shoes when that brake rod broke,” answered Sam bluntly. “Eh, Tom?”
“Not much!” replied his brother.
At last they were on the way again. They had telephoned to Peter Marley, so that the farmer would know the cause of the delay. Sam did the driving and now the machine went along well, and almost before they knew it they were at Rayville and asking the way to the Marley farm. This was on a back road, but the way was good and they reached the farm without trouble, excepting that they had to slow down to let a herd of cows pass them.
“Got here at last, have ye!” cried Peter Marley, as he came out to greet them. “You kin put that ’mobile under the wagon shed if ye want to,” he added.
“Can’t we use it to go after the biplane?” questioned Dick.
“No, there hain’t no fit road. If ye say so, we can go on hosses—if ye want to pay fer ridin’,” added the farmer shrewdly. He was a good man, but close, and never allowed a chance to make an honest cent slip by.
“All right, we’ll ride,” said Dick. “The horses may come in handy for hauling the biplane,—and besides, we can’t carry these ropes and hooks if we walk.”
So it was arranged; and a little later the party of four set off on horseback, the farmer and Tom carrying the ropes and hooks, and Sam keeping beside Dick, who looked a trifle pale in spite of his eff
orts to appear all right. The knock-down blow from the flying machine had been harder than the eldest Rover boy was willing to admit.
Rocker’s Woods proved to be a large patch of scrub timber, all the large trees having been cut down to feed the old saw-mill, which still stood on the bank of a good-sized stream. The saw-mill had not been used for nine years and the timber was gradually coming up once more.
“This is exactly the way thet airship tuk,” said Peter Marley, as he led the way. “An’ as she wasn’t runnin’ very fast I guess she must a-come down not very fur off.”
“I hope so,” answered Dick. “And I hope, too, she came down gently.”
“Huh! How could she come down any other way? Ain’t much to ’em, is there, ’ceptin’ sticks an’ cloth.”
“The engine weighs several hundred pounds.”
“Gee shoo! Several hundred pounds! Say, if thet’s so, it’s great how they kin stay up!” burst out the farmer in admiration. “Ain’t no bird as weighs as much as thet!”
As they advanced through the woods, all of the party looked to the right and the left for some sign of the missing biplane.
“Here’s a tree top down!” cried Tom, when they were close to the river on which the old saw mill was located. “This looks as if it might have been done by the machine.”
“Gracious, I wonder if the airship went into the river!” burst out Sam.
“That might be a good thing, if it did,” answered Dick. “It might save it from being wrecked, and we might be able to tow it ashore.”
In a moment more they came to a halt at the edge of the river, which was broad and smooth at this point. In the middle the stream was ten to twelve feet deep, and the bottom was of sand and smooth rocks.
“I don’t see anything that looks like a flying machine,” said Sam after a long look around.
“Maybe after all it went over into the woods on the other side,” returned Dick.
“That must be it,” said Peter Marley. “I’m afraid we’ll have to go up the stream a bit to get across. We can’t ford here.”
“How far to a good ford?” asked Dick.
“About quarter o’ a mile tudder side o’ the old mill.”
“Say, look over there!” cried Tom at this moment. “What does that look like to you, Sam?”
He pointed with his hand, and all in the party gazed in the direction indicated, a point close to the opposite shore, where some brushwood overhung the river.
“Why that looks to me like one of the planes of the flying machine!” cried the youngest Rover.
“Just what I thought,” exclaimed Tom. “What do you say, Dick?”
“It certainly does look like one of the planes,” answered the older brother. “But don’t be too sure, or we may be disappointed.”
“Too bad we can’t get over here,” murmured Sam. “Supposing I swim it?” he continued.
“No, don’t bother, Sam,” replied Dick. “We’ll all go around by way of the ford. You can’t do anything alone anyway.”
“But I might make sure if it was the machine,” insisted Sam.
“Never mind; we want to get over there anyway—to continue the search—if that isn’t the machine.”
Again Peter Marley led the way, along a trail that ran past the old mill. The boys came close at his heels, and as they advanced Tom questioned the farmer concerning the place.
“It belongs to a lumber company, but it’s been closed up fer years,” said Peter Marley. “Once in a while tramps hang out there, but thet’s all.”
Presently they found themselves close to the mill, which was almost ready to fall down from disuse and neglect. As they rode up Tom chanced to glance towards a side window and was surprised to catch sight of a man looking curiously at them. As soon as he saw that he was discovered the man stepped out of sight.
“Well, I never!” gasped Tom. “Did you see him?”
“See who?” asked his brothers.
“That man at the window of the mill! Unless I am greatly mistaken it was Josiah Crabtree!”
CHAPTER VI
TWO OLD ENEMIES
“Josiah Crabtree!” came simultaneously from Dick and Sam Rover.
“Yes,” returned Tom.
“How can he be here, in this out-of-the-way place?” demanded Sam.
“You must be mistaken, Tom,” came from the eldest Rover boy. “Old Crabtree must be around Cedarville or in Ithaca. He would have no call to come to a place like this.”
“Did you say Josiah Crabtree?” questioned Peter Marley, curiously. All had come to a halt on their horses.
“Yes,” returned Tom quickly. “Do you know him?”
“I used to know him—fact is, he once stopped at my place to git a ride—when he was a-visitin’ thet old mill.”
“Then he visits the mill!” exclaimed Dick. “Tom, you must have been right.”
“But why does he come here?” questioned Sam.
“Why as near as I know, some relative o’ his’n used to have an interest in the lumber company as run the mill,” replied the farmer. “It was a man named Foxwell. He’s dead now. Maybe he left his share o’ the place to this man Crabtree. He was a teacher, wasn’t he?”
“He was, years ago. Since then he has been a jailbird,” answered Tom.
“A jailbird!”
“Yes, he was in jail for a number of years—and since he has been out he has been trying his best to make trouble for us and for some of our friends,” went on Tom. “Come on, let’s go after him, instead of talking,” he added, as he dismounted.
“That’s the talk!” cried Sam. “The biplane can wait.”
Dick was as willing as his brothers to go after the former teacher of Putnam Hall, and leaving the farmer to take care of the horses, all three ran up to the door of the old mill. It was unlocked, and one of the hinges was broken, and it was an easy matter for them to push their way into the building.
“Do you think Tad Sobber is with old Crabtree?” asked Sam, in a low voice.
“It may be—since they were together when the girls saw them,” returned Dick.
“We ought to have armed ourselves,” put in Tom. The boys had no weapons of any kind.
“Here are some old barrel staves,” said Tom. “They are better than nothing.” And he picked up a stave and his brothers followed suit.
With caution the three Rover boys advanced through the old mill, which, because of the closed doors and dirty windows, was a gloomy place in spite of the brightness of the day outside. All listened intently, but not a sound reached their ears, excepting Mr. Marley’s voice as he talked to the restless horses.
“Supposing I call to him?” suggested Dick.
“It can’t do any harm,” answered Sam.
“Hello, Mr. Crabtree!” sang out Tom, without waiting for his brother. “Where are you? Why don’t you show yourself?”
All waited after this call. But no reply came back, and then Dick and Sam called.
“He’s a bit bashful,” was Tom’s grinning comment. “Wants to be hauled out by the coattails, I guess. Come on, we’ll soon locate him,” and he started forward.
“Be careful, Tom!” warned his elder brother. “He may set a trap for you! You know he and Sobber are not to be trusted.”
“I’ve got my eyes open,” answered the fun-loving Rover sturdily.
With the barrel staves in hand, the three Rover boys advanced further and further into the old mill, going from one room to another. Occasionally they stumbled over bits of lumber and piles of sawdust, for when the place had been shut down no attempt had been made to clean up. Even some of the machinery had been left and this was now so rusted that it was practically unfit for use.
“Say, Mr. Crabtree, why don’t you show yourself?” called out Dick. “Are you afraid?”
“You get out of
here!” came the unexpected answer, from a small toolroom, the door to which was split but tightly closed. “You Rovers have no right on this property!”
The boys recognized the harsh and dictatorial voice of Josiah Crabtree,—less pleasant now than it ever had been. They saw the former teacher glaring at them from the split in the toolroom door.
“Mr. Crabtree, come out here and let us talk to you,” said Dick, quietly but firmly.
“I don’t want to talk to you—I want you to leave these premises,” snarled the man.
“Why should we leave?” asked Tom.
“Because this is my property.”
“Your property?” cried Sam. “How so?”
“It was left to me by a distant relative. I won’t have you on the place.”
“Mr. Crabtree, do you know that we can have you arrested?” said Dick, sharply.
“Arrested? What for?”
“For the abduction of Mrs. Stanhope.”
“I didn’t abduct her—she went along of her own free will—I can prove it.”
“You know that statement is false. You carried her off against her will—and did what you could to hypnotize her into marrying you. Mr. Crabtree, you are a villain, and you ought to be returned to the prison from which you came.”
“Don’t you dare to talk to me like that! Don’t you dare!” fairly shrieked Josiah Crabtree. “I know my rights, and some day I’ll have the law on you boys! You are responsible for my being sent to prison, and but for you Mrs. Stanhope would have married me long ago. Now I want you to leave these premises, and don’t you dare to come back.”
“Is Tad Sobber with you?” asked Tom.
“I am not here to answer questions, Tom Rover. I want to leave, and at once.”
“Mr. Crabtree, you listen to me,” said Dick, stepping closer to the crack in the door. “We are not afraid of you, and we want you and Tad Sobber to know it. Were it not for the unpleasant publicity for Mrs. Stanhope and her daughter, we’d have you in the lock-up inside of twenty-four hours. We understand that you and Sobber have been threatening the Stanhopes and the Lanings again, and also threatening us. Now these threats have got to stop, and you have got to behave yourself. If you don’t behave yourself we are going to make it our business to see that you are arrested, and we’ll do our level best to have you placed behind the bars for a long term of years.”
The Rover Boys Megapack Page 239