“And the touring car went on?” queried Dick.
“Yes! yes! I saw the man shut the door, too. Oh, Dick, they have carried poor Nellie and Dora off, just as they carried Dora’s mother off!”
“They kept to this road?”
“I believe so. I don’t know of any cross road this side of Beechwood.”
“Then we’ll get after them at once!” declared Dick. “Sam, do you want to take Grace back, or come with us?”
“Well—I—er—”
“Go with them, Sam—they may need you!” broke in the girl quickly. “I can go back alone, and I’ll send word to the authorities, over the telephone. Hurry! hurry, or it will be too late!”
The boys needed no further urging. Dick and Tom ran for the flying machine, and soon the explosions of the motor filled the crisp autumn air. Then all the boys leaped on board. Dick was at the wheel, and he sent the Dartaway along at a good rate of speed. Sam looked back, to see Grace hurrying in the direction of Hope Seminary.
“I hope she gets back safely,” he said anxiously.
“I think she will,” answered Tom. “Those rascals are all further along the road—waiting for Nellie and Dora.”
“Keep your eyes open,” put in Dick. “Don’t let anything escape you. We must spot that auto without fail!”
CHAPTER XXI
FOLLOWING DORA AND NELLIE
The nerves of the Rover boys were on edge. Dick and Tom were particularly anxious, for those who had been thus rudely carried off were very dear to them.
“I wonder who that so-called doctor was?” mused Sam, as the Dartaway sailed along, keeping over the road as well as the windings through the dense woods permitted.
“Most likely some tool of Crabtree or Sobber, or both,” answered Tom.
“Do you think Koswell and Larkspur are in this game?”
“Perhaps they are!” cried Dick. “It would be just like them to join forces with Crabtree and Sobber. They are down and out, and need money, and all of them would expect to get a big stake out of this.”
“Then you think they carried the girls off for money?” questioned Tom.
“I do, Tom. You hit the truth when you said they found out they couldn’t do anything at the farm, and couldn’t reach Mrs. Stanhope and Mrs. Laning. The only things left were to try to reach us or the girls.”
“And they didn’t dare tackle us,” put in Sam.
“Do you suppose that Mrs. Sobber is in this?” continued Tom, referring to a relative of Tad Sobber, who had assisted once in the carrying off of Mrs. Stanhope.
“She may be, although she was pretty well scared that other time,” replied his older brother.
The boys relapsed into silence, each busy with his own thoughts. All were anxious to catch a glimpse of the enclosed touring car. But they came within sight of the village of Beechwood without encountering a turnout of any sort.
“I’ll land here and make some inquiries,” said Dick.
“Yes, if the auto went through here somebody must have seen it,” said Tom.
A landing was made directly on the village green, in front of the post-office, and a small crowd quickly collected.
“It’s them young fellers from Brill!” cried one of the villagers. “I heard tell they had an airship.”
“That ain’t no airship, it’s an aryplane,” said another. “They don’t lift up like no balloon—they sail like a bird, on them canvas wings.”
“Wot makes the thing go, Job?”
“Them wooden things. They go ’round like windmills.”
“Say, we want some information and we want it quick!” cried Dick. “Have any of you seen a big auto go through here, an enclosed auto—one with a coach-like body?”
“Sure we did!” cried one of the villagers. “By heck! the thing nearly killed Si Levering, it did! Si was crossin’ the road, when whizz! bang! shoo! that auto went past him like a streak o’ greased lightnin’! Si jumped back an’ sit hisself down in the waterin’ trough an’ got hisself all wet.”
“Which way did the auto go?” went on Dick.
“Right straight ahead.”
“No, it didn’t nuther,” put in a farmer, who had just arrived in the village. “It took the road to Shepleytown—I see it.”
“Which is that?” questioned Tom.
“You go up this road about a mile an’ then take the cross road to the left. You can’t miss it, ’cause there’s a big tree on the corner that was struck by lightnin’.”
“All right, we’ll go to the corner that was struck by lightning,” said Tom, who could not help joking, even in that moment of anxiety.
“I didn’t say the corner was struck—it was the tree,” explained the farmer soberly.
“All right, much obliged,” answered Tom; and then the three boys started up the engine once more. The villagers had crowded around, but as those explosions rent the air several leaped back, and then the whole crowd ran for their lives.
“She’s goin’ up!” one yelled.
“Is the engine goin’ to bust?” asked another.
“Look out, Jim, or she’ll mow ye down like a mowin’ machine!”
“Clear the track!” cried Sam, and then, with the usual rush and roar, the Dartaway leaped over the village green and arose in the air, leaving the gaping and wondering crowd behind.
It was an easy run up to the blasted tree, and sighting this, Dick headed the biplane along the road that led to Shepleytown.
“How far is that place?” asked Sam.
“I think it is about six or seven miles,” answered Tom. “I was there once, on a bicycle—went after nuts with Stanley and Songbird.”
“What, to the town?” questioned Sam, with a grin.
“No, the woods back of the town, Sam. Say, that’s one on me,—as bad as that countryman’s struck-by-lightning corner,” and Tom grinned, too.
On and on swept the flying machine, the boys watching every rod of the winding road below. Once Tom gave a cry, as they saw a turnout at a distance. But it proved to be nothing but a tinware peddler’s wagon. On the ground lay various pieces of tinware, scattering over a distance of fifty feet.
“Look at that!” cried Sam. “He must have had an accident.”
“Say, maybe that auto struck his wagon,” exclaimed Tom.
“It looks that way,” was Dick’s comment.
“Shall we land and question him?”
“What’s the use? We know the machine came this way. That’s enough for the present. We don’t want to lose a minute more than is necessary.”
“Say, we were chumps that we didn’t telephone ahead from Beechwood!” cried Sam. “We might have had that auto stopped when it went through Shepleytown.”
“It couldn’t be done, for there is no line from Beechwood to Shepleytown,” answered Dick. “The line only runs the other way.”
The route was now over a dense woods and the boys had to sail slowly, for fear of passing the automobile while the latter was running under the overhanging trees. Once they saw something that looked like an automobile and Dick had to sail in a circle and come back, to make sure. But it proved to be only a two-seated carriage; and they passed on.
Shepleytown proved to be quite a place, with a main street containing a dozen stores. It connected by stage with Chaplet, which was a railroad center, five miles away.
The coming of the boys created as much of a sensation as had their arrival at Beechwood, and once more the biplane was surrounded.
“Sure, I saw that ’mobile you are after,” said one man, in answer to their questions. “It was running putty lively an’ no mistake. It went past the mill an’ took the old Snagtown road. Queer, too, ’cause that road ain’t half as good as the Chaplet turnpike.”
“Did you see who was in the auto?” queried Dick.
“I
think a couple o’ men an’ some girls. I couldn’t see very well, the machine run so fast. I had to hold my hoss, for I was afraid they’d run into me.”
Several others had also seen the big enclosed touring car and all were sure it had taken to the old Snagtown road.
“Where does that road run to?” asked Dick.
“Goes over the hills to what used to be Snagtown,” answered one of the men. “But there ain’t no town now, since the mills closed down—only empty houses.”
“Just the place they’d be likely to head for!” cried Tom, in a low voice to his brothers. “Come on, hurry up!”
Sam and Dick needed no urging, and having thanked the men for their information they started up the engine once more.
“How far is it to that deserted village?” called out Tom, as the Dartaway was about to move off.
“Six miles!” shouted one of the crowd. “That is, by the road. The way you’re going it ain’t more’n four!” And this answer made the crowd laugh.
“Four miles,” murmured Dick. “We ought to be able to head them off.”
“I wish we were armed,” came from Tom. “We may have some desperate characters to deal with.”
“We might go back and get pistols,” suggested Sam.
Dick thought for a moment. He knew well how desperate their enemies might become. He hated to lose the time but he realized it would be worse than useless to face a gang of four or more empty-handed. There was no telling what Sobber, Crabtree and the others might do if cornered.
“I guess we’d better go back and arm ourselves,” he said. “It will create talk, but that can’t be helped.”
“It will create talk anyway, as soon as it is known that Dora and Nellie have been carried off,” answered Tom.
“What do you care for the talk!” cried Sam. “What we want to do is to save the girls—and put those rascals where they belong, in jail!”
Then the biplane was turned back in a circle and soon the boys were back in Shepleytown, much to the astonishment of those who had but a few moments before seen them leave.
CHAPTER XXII
OVER THE BIG WOODS
“Is there a hardware store handy?” asked Dick, of the first man who came up. He had told his brothers to let him do the talking.
“Sure—Bill Simmons’s place, just down the street,” answered the man, pointing with his finger.
“Thank you. Tom, bring that five-gallon gasoline can with you. Sam, you mind the machine,” went on Dick, loudly.
“All right,” answered the brothers, and Tom got the can in question, and he and Dick started for the store.
“Humph! got to have gasoline to run ’em, eh?” said one of the men, to Sam.
“Yes, indeed,” answered the youngest Rover.
“Well, Bill Simmons can give ye all ye want, pervidin’ ye pay for it,” chuckled the man. “He keeps gasoline fer auto fellers an’ fer farmers as has gasoline engines.”
Dick and Tom hurried to the hardware store and asked the proprietor about gasoline. While he was filling the can they looked at an assortment of pistols that were exhibited in a showcase.
“They look pretty good,” said Dick, when the hardware man came towards them.
“Are good, too. Wouldn’t you like to buy a good shooter?” he added, anxious to do business.
“Show me a really good five-shooter,” said Dick, and several were quickly handed over. He selected one and Tom selected another.
“Have to get one for Sam, too,” whispered Tom.
“Sure,” replied his brother, and this was done, and they also purchased the necessary cartridges.
“Now you are well armed—if anybody tries to steal your airship,” said Bill Simmons.
“We don’t want the machine stolen, or tampered with,” answered Dick. “We can’t afford to take chances. If a fellow tampered with our machine it might go wrong when it was in the air and we’d get our necks broken.” And then Dick and Tom hurried back to the Dartaway carrying the can of gasoline between them. The can was fastened where it belonged,—for the regular tank had still plenty of gasoline in it,—and then the boys sailed away once more, over the winding road leading to Snagtown.
“That’s a dandy revolver!” exclaimed Sam, on receiving one of the weapons, with some cartridges. “And loaded, too! Now I guess we are ready for those rascals!” he added, with satisfaction.
“Remember, we are not to use any firearms unless it becomes absolutely necessary,” said Dick, firmly.
“Yes, but I am not going to give them a chance to down me and get away with Nellie!” cried Tom, stoutly.
“Oh, no, Tom! We’ll not allow that!” returned his big brother, with equal firmness.
“It seems to be getting a bit cloudy,” said Sam, a minute later. “Wonder if it will rain?”
“I don’t think that is rain, Sam,” answered Dick. “It’s worse than that, for us.”
“You mean wind?”
“Yes.”
Dick was right, and presently the first puff of the coming breeze hit the Dartaway and sent the aircraft up on a slant. Dick promptly moved the tips and one of the rudders, and the flying machine came along on a level. But from then on the oldest Rover boy had all he could do to keep to the course, for the breeze became stronger and stronger.
“It’s too bad!” murmured Tom, as he clung to his seat. “Hang the luck! Why couldn’t that wind have kept off for an hour longer!”
“You fellows keep your eyes on the road!” sang out Dick. “I’ve got to give all my attention to the biplane!”
“All right,” was the answer of the others.
After that but little was said, for Dick had to watch every movement of the Dartaway with care, and his hands and feet were constantly on the alert, to make whatever shift seemed necessary. Sam and Tom strained their eyes to catch sight of the enclosed touring car, which, they had learned, was painted a dark blue.
The wind kept growing stronger and stronger, coming in fitful gusts that were particularly bad for such a flying machine as the boys possessed. Once came a gust that sent them spinning far out of their course.
“Phew! this is getting pretty wild!” gasped Sam. “Dick, can you manage her?”
“Not if it gets any worse,” was the grim answer.
“Don’t take too much of a chance,” put in Tom. “We don’t want to get wrecked in this wilderness.”
His reference to a wilderness was not without reason, for below them stretched a series of hills and valleys covered with stunted trees and clumps of brushwood. Not a house was in sight.
“This is what you’d call Lonesomehurst,” murmured Sam.
“Do you see any place where we can land?” was Dick’s question, a little later, after he had battled with another angry gust and then run through a particularly trying “soft spot.”
“Nothing around here,” answered Tom.
“I see something of a clearing over to the left,” came from Sam. “I don’t know what it amounts to though, it’s too far off.”
“We’ll look at it,” said Dick, in a low voice.
He had to fairly battle his way along, so fierce were the gusts of wind. He made something of an oval, and presently found himself over a spot covered with grass and low bushes. Then came another gust of wind and without waiting longer he shut off the engine, and the Dartaway came down with a bump that threatened to break the wheels on which it rested. They swept through the bushes, and then tilted up beside several small trees.
“Hold her down!” shouted Dick. “Tie her fast, before the wind turns her over!”
All set to work, and, not without great difficulty, they managed to run the biplane directly between several trees and some clumps of bushes.
“Fasten every rope well,” sang out Dick. “Unless I miss my guess, this is going to be a corker of a bl
ow!”
“I don’t think it will be as bad as it was during that hailstorm,” answered Tom. “But it is bad enough.”
The ropes were all well secured, and then the boys breathed easier. Down on the ground the wind did not appear to be so powerful, and they felt that, unless it increased greatly, the Dartaway way would be safe in her berth among the trees and bushes.
“Well, what’s the next move?” questioned Sam, after they had rested for a moment from their labors.
“I hardly know what to say,” answered his eldest brother. “We can hardly follow that auto on foot.”
“The worst of it is, it will be growing dark before long,” put in Tom. “What are we going to do then? I thought we’d catch up to that auto long before this.”
They talked the matter over, but could arrive at no satisfactory conclusion.
“I’m almost sorry we came down,” said Dick. “We might have gotten through—although the wind is worse than it was.”
“No, we couldn’t do anything in this wind,—we’d simply wreck the Dartaway,” said Sam. “But come on, let’s go as far as we can. We can come back for the biplane any time.”
The Rover Boys Megapack Page 249