_Chapter XII_
THE HOUSE IN THE HILLS
"Don't tell me it takes a girl long to change her clothes!" wasDorothy's salutation, as Bill drove up to the side entrance again."You've kept me waiting here exactly three minutes and a half."
"Sorry," he said in mock contrition. "Fact is, I thought we'd better usemy own bus tonight and I had to go out to the garage to get it."
"What's the big idea?" Dorothy sprang in beside him, looking very trimand boyish in jodhpurs and dark flannel shirt over which she wore a thinbrown sweater. "Isn't my car good enough for you?"
"This boat has a full tank," he replied tersely. "Can't waste timetonight picking up gas."
They had reversed the car down the drive and were now speeding along thetree-lined road in the direction of Bedford.
"Got my gun?" she asked.
"Surest thing you know!" Bill passed over a small revolver in a holster."Tie yourself to that! It's a Colt .32 and it's loaded. Know how to useit?"
"Certainly. What do you expect me to do--release the safety catch andpull the trigger to see if it works?" Her tone flared hotly withindignation.
Bill whistled a tuneless air, but the whistle developed into a laugh andthe laugh continued until Dorothy snapped:
"_Don't_ cackle like a billygoat!"
"Billygoats don't--" he began but broke off, changing his banteringtone. "Then why do you tie the leg-strap around your waist?" he askedseriously enough.
She swallowed hard.
"Because--well, because I've never used this kind of a holster before,smarty. But I can shoot--Daddy taught me--I can box, too, and I've hadlessons in jiu jitsu. Oh, I can take care of myself, if that's what'sworrying you!"
"Glad to hear it, Dorothy. Excitement kind of stirs you up eh?"
"It's not excitement that does it, Bill--it's suspense. But I'm sorry Ibawled you out."
"Don't mention it. My humble apologies for being so rude--"
"Imbecile! You weren't. But never mind that--tell me about this house inthe woods and what it has to do with the gang who robbed the bank."
The car ran into Bedford and taking the turn to the right, he swung onto the northbound turnpike.
"Go ahead with the story," begged Dorothy as they left the picturesquevillage behind.
"Right-o! Here goes. On our way back from the South last month, Idropped Dad at New Orleans. The old _Loening_ needed a thoroughoverhauling, so Dad left me there with the plane and went north bytrain. After I saw him off at the L. and N. station, I went back to theSt. Charles Hotel and slept for nearly twenty-four hours. I got a touchof jungle fever when I was down in the cypress swamps and was stillfeeling pretty rocky.
"So for the next ten days I loafed while the amphibian got what wascoming to her. When she'd been made shipshape again I flew her north. Iwas in no hurry to reach New Canaan and stopped off at Atlanta, and atPhiladelphia, where I have friends.
"A couple of days before I met you I started on the last leg of the hop.It was raining when I left Philly--a filthy morning, with high fog alongthe coast. That is why I decided not to follow the NewYork-Philadelphia-Hartford air route, but cut straight north overeastern Pennsylvania and northern New Jersey, hoping for bettervisibility inland. Instead, the old bus ran me into even worse weather.The fog grew lower and denser and flying conditions became even rottenerthan before. You haven't run into fog in a plane, yet, Dorothy--and,believe me, it's no fun.
"I expected to cross the Hudson at about Haverstraw and fly east to NewCanaan. I know now that I must have overshot that burg; that the planewas probably nearer Newburgh when we crossed the river and headed east.To make matters worse, a few minutes later, the engine commenced toskip. I began to realize then that I didn't know where I was."
Dorothy had been listening intently, her eyes on the grotesque shadowscast by their headlights upon the stone fences along the road; now sheturned and stared at him in astonishment.
"That's a good one! You've flown pretty much all over the country--andget lost in dear little Connecticut!"
"Oh, I don't know--parts of the state are as wild as the Canadian woods!And just remember that the visibility at five hundred feet was so poor Icould hardly see the nose of my plane. And worse luck, I knew that withthe engine cutting up the way she was, I'd soon be forced to land."
"What did you do?"
"Nosed over until I got almost down to the trees on the hilltops.Visibility was better there, but for the life of me I couldn't spot alanding place.--Nothing but one chain of hills after another, allcovered with trees. The sides of these foothills of the Berkshires aresteep as church roofs--and they run down to narrow, densely woodedvalleys. Well, for some time I circled about with the engine actingworse every split second. Then, in a valley a little wider than any I'dcome across so far, I saw the glint of water--a little lake. Fifty yardsor so away, there was a good-sized farmhouse with a fairly level hayfield behind it. I chose the lake, although it wasn't much better than aduck pond--and landed.
"The house was a ramshackle affair, but some smoke rose from thechimney, so I figured someone lived there. While I was fixing my engine,a girl--or rather I should say a young woman--came out of the house andwalked down to the little dock near where the plane was floating."
"Of course she had red hair and wore yellow beach pajamas?" saidDorothy.
"She did--I mean, she had. Anyway, when Lizzie described the girl in thecar who wanted bicarbonate of soda and got it, I was sure that myer--lady of the lake and she were one and the same."
"Did you talk to her?"
"I did. I told her I was lost and asked her where I had come down. Shetold me, after a while. That is, she gave me a general idea in whatdirection Danbury lay and about how far away from town we were. But Ithought at the time that she was awfully cagy and tight with herinformation."
"In other words, she didn't seem especially glad to see you?"
"That's it. Instead of inviting me ashore and up to the house for ameal, she wanted to know how long I was likely to be on the lake--andthen she beat it back to the house. Naturally, I thought it queer sheshould be so inhospitable and stand-offish. People are usuallyinterested anyway, when a plane arrives unexpectedly in theirneighborhood--too darn interested, if anything. Still, I didn't thinkmuch about her, then. I had the information I wanted, and after changinga couple of sparkplugs, I took off and made New Canaan via Danburywithout any more trouble."
"Did you see anyone besides the girl with the red hair?"
"Not a soul."
"And you've been back since the robbery, I think you said?"
"Several times. But the place has been deserted and the house locked uptighter than a drum."
There was a long pause.
"Why do you think the gang are there now?" asked Dorothy. "Simplybecause we saw the lame man take the Ridgefield road?"
"This is the way I figured." They had passed through the little town ofBrewster, heading north, some minutes before. Now Bill turned the caroff the state highway and on to a winding dirt road full of deep rutsthat he knew ran far into the wooded hill country to the northeast. "Itis my idea," he continued, slowing down to a bare twenty-mile pace,"that after the robbery, that gang scattered and laid low for a while.They didn't go to the house, that I do know. After you went to bed thatnight, I drove up here to have a look-see. Nobody home, as I've toldyou. But they couldn't have a better place for headquarters. There isn'ta house anywhere round that neck of the woods. Sooner or later, they'rebound to meet there. The loot has got to be divided. Seeing our lamefriend headed in that direction this evening makes me doubly certain.I've kept it to myself, because if that army of detectives who are onthis case started camping out near the house on a watchful waitingspree, those crooks would be sure to spot them and never show up."
"I guess you're right," she said.
For some time neither spoke, while their car bumped slowly along theuneven road.
"What do you suppos
e that lame man was doing on Marvin Ridge?" sheinquired presently.
"Search me. How should I know? You certainly love to fire questions at aguy."
"He told us the car hadn't been used lately," she mused, ignoring hisremark.
"That only goes to prove we're right in thinking he has been in hidingsomewhere."
"But where?"
"Merciful heaven! Another question! That road runs down to Noroton,doesn't it? And from there the Boston Post could bring him from allpoints east and west. There's no telling where he'd come from."
"But I drove up from the Post Road that way yesterday. It has beenfreshly oiled to within a half mile of where we met him. Yet thatPackard hadn't run through oil. If she had, I'd have seen it with myheadlights smack on her."
"Perhaps he came down a side road?"
"Not between that point and the oil--there isn't any."
"Maybe he'd been calling in the neighborhood--"
"Don't be silly--I know everyone who lives along that road."
"You think it out then--I've got enough to do trying to navigate thisroad. I'm going to switch out the lights, now. We're not more than acouple of miles from the house."
"Do you think they'll put up much of a fight?"
"Good Lord! You don't think I've any intention of trying to capturethem?" Bill exclaimed. He was very busily engaged in keeping the car inthe middle of the grass grown trail as it rolled, down a steep hillsideat a snail's pace. "I'm not taking chances with you along. It would befoolish to attempt anything like that. You'll get into no battlestonight, miss. This is just a scouting party. If the gang have arrived,we'll beat it back to Brewster and get the cops on the job."
"Oh, _dear_!" sighed Dorothy. "And I thought this was going to be thereal thing!"
"No grandstand plays for you tonight, young lady. What's more--I'mrunning this show. If you don't promise to behave, you'll warm a seat inthis car, while I mosey up to the house. How about it?"
Dorothy's voice betrayed her disgust and disappointment.
"Oh, I'll promise. But if we are leaving all the fun to the police, whydid you bring the guns?"
"Because you seemed to expect them, little brighteyes. But we might aswell have left them home, for all the use they'll be--I'll see to that.It's bad enough to be forced into bringing you up here. Your father willcertainly raise the roof when he finds it out. I shan't tell him, that'sflat."
"You believe in being candid!" with cutting sarcasm.
"You bet. And please remember that if you try to pull off anythingyou'll probably crab the show. And get us into a good old-fashioned messbesides."
He stopped the car and slipping into reverse gear, backed off the trail.
"There!" He switched off the ignition. "We're all ready for a quickgetaway if need be."
"How far are we from the house?" she asked in a tense whisper.
"About a mile. I'm afraid to drive nearer--sound carries a long way upthese quiet valleys. Let's get started now. I want you to walk justbehind me. Be careful where you place your feet. We'll follow the traila while farther, but it's pretty rough going. Above all else--don'ttalk--and make just as little noise as possible."
"What if they have sentries posted?" she asked, coming to his side.
"Aren't you the limit!" Bill seemed really annoyed. "There you gotalking again! For your satisfaction, though--if we have the bad luck tocome across anyone, I'll naturally do my best to scrag him. You, ofcourse, will act as you think best. My advice is to beat it to the car,as fast as you can. Come along now--and quiet!"
"Aren't you horrid tonight!" she breathed, swinging up the overgrowntrail behind him.
But Bill didn't hear her. Anyway, he didn't answer, and she followed inhis footsteps while a pleasurable thrill of excitement gradually tookthe place of her disappointment. It was nearly pitch dark, walking alongin the shadow of tall trees that lined the twisting path. Now and thenthe cry of a night bird came to her from the woods, but except for thedull sound of their steps on the damp earth--the occasional snapping ofa twig underfoot, all was quiet in the forest.
Bill was only a blur in the gloom ahead. But she was glad to know he wasthere just the same. This creeping through the still night toreconnoiter a gang of bank-thieves held a kick all its own. Yes, she wasglad that Bill was close by.
There came a movement in the underbrush behind them. Hands of steelcaught her arms, pinning them to her sides.
"Sentries, Bill!" she screamed, struggling frantically to free herself."Look out! _Look out!_"
She heard Bill mutter angrily. Heavy feet crashed in the brush and sheheard the sharp impact of a solid fist meeting soft flesh. Several menwere shouting now and someone groaned.
Bending suddenly forward and sideways, Dorothy managed to fasten herteeth on the wrist of the man who held her. With a howl, he let go herright arm and at the same time a gun went off. The night was torn with ascream of anguish. But before she could use her free arm someone droppeda bag over her head, a rope was knotted about her wrists and a muffledvoice spoke to her through the folds of the sack.
"_Be_have, sister! _Be_have, I say, or I'll crack yer wid dis rod. Iain't no wild cat tamer. Quiet now, or I'll bash yer one!"
Inasmuch as it was no part of Dorothy's plan to get "bashed" in a bag,that young lady kept quiet.
"That's the girl!" he applauded. Swinging her over his shoulder asthough she were a sack of flour, he walked away from the scuffle on thetrail.
Dorothy Dixon Wins Her Wings Page 12
