The Auto Boys' Quest

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER IV

  SAFELY AWAY

  "They're going to go soon, if they go at all. Likely would have startedto-day, as MacLester said, if their machine hadn't played out," said TomPickton, when on this Monday evening he and Perth were leaving Gaines athis home. "We'll watch 'em to-morrow, all right!" declared Mr. Picktonearnestly.

  And now if Pick is as good as his word, if he and his fellowconspirators are really watching the Auto Boys, as another day comes, itis an interesting and busy scene that falls upon their gaze.

  Phil Way is looking over every part of the Thirty's oiling system. "It'stoo bad we had to put the faithful old machine in the humiliating plightof being towed in, even if there never was a thing the matter withher," says he.

  "And you ought to've seen Phil! Never saw him appear so broken up!Honest, I just hurt from holding in when the three of them drove by us,as if they thought they were 'it,' hollering out, 'Give ye a lift?' inthat sarcastic way of Pick's! And when they were 'way past, maybe Ididn't laugh!"

  Paul Jones was the speaker, strapping a suitcase to the car's runningboard as he talked. Billy Worth and Dave MacLester were occupied in therearrangement of a lot of other baggage, the canvas of a tent among therest, in the tonneau. The car stood just outside a large frame buildingin the rear of the Yorkshire House, the principal hotel of Littleton.

  A combined livery stable and garage was this frame structure, if onejudged by appearances, for it housed both horse-drawn vehicles andautomobiles. Of the latter there were three--two runabouts and a lighttouring car. The Auto Boys' machine appeared to have been kept hereover night. By their further conversation it was evident, too, that theyoung gentlemen themselves had remained over night in the YorkshireHouse, and into that hostelry they repaired a few minutes later for anexceptionally early breakfast.

  "Too early for any earthly use. I don't see no sense in it," the notfastidiously tidy cook of the establishment stated at least five or sixtimes to the maid who waited on table; and who, it may be added, quiteagreed with him until she found a nickel tied in the corner of eachnapkin after the very early guests had left. As a matter of fact, it wasexactly five o'clock.

  And now again, if Mr. Thomas Pickton, still sound asleep in his bed athome, had been watching the Auto Boys, as he had stated would befaithfully done to-day, he would have saved himself and friends a ratherhumiliating disappointment at a later time. But, as has also beenplainly indicated, Pick, with all his hawk-like eyes, saw nothing ofwhat was taking place, and as Freddy Perth and Soapy Gaines were not awhit more wide awake than he at this hour of five A. M., the well-ladenThirty with its four owners aboard purred merrily westward, farther andfarther from the small town of appropriate name, and farther yet fromLannington.

  "Guess they have to get up in the morning some to get ahead of us,"observed Mr. Paul Jones, with a sigh of satisfaction. And it wouldcertainly appear that he was right, though he did rub his eyesconsiderably and though his sigh stretched out to the extent of a greatyawn only a few seconds later.

  Thus was the _Auto Boys' Quest_ under way at last. Away back at thegreat, empty farmhouse where Grandfather Beaman once lived, the firstplans for this trip had been laid. Those of you who have read _The AutoBoys' Outing_ will recall the circumstances. You will remember the daysof zestful fun and tranquil rest the lads had, following the solution ofthe mystery of the strange characters on Grandfather Beaman's woodenleg, the disclosure of Jonas Tagg's evil designs and the discovery ofthe identity of "Little Mystery."

  And do you recollect the pleasant evenings on the old front door step?There it was that the trip to the great Ship woods was first suggested,and there it was that the solemn agreement, making the whole expeditiona secret, was entered into.

  Going back a little farther, it will not be necessary to remind readersof _The Auto Boys_, the first story of this series, that for purelybusiness reasons the four friends had made it a practice not to talkpublicly of their joint ventures. Even the "Retreat" in Gleason'sRavine, was known to few outside the immediate families of the boys.Just how they had managed, as the "Young American Contract Company," toacquire their automobile and start the passenger service to Star Lake,with all the exciting adventures resulting therefrom, was, likewise, asubject the young men did not publicly discuss, although of course themain facts had in time become quite commonly known.

  One reason the four chums were so successful in confining within thelimits of their respective households and to their very nearest friendsknowledge of their plans and undertakings was that there was nothing ofthe braggart in any of them. Phil Way, usually the leader in theirvarious ventures, whether for purposes of fun or business, was a tall,slender, brown-haired, clear-eyed and mild-mannered chap. At the time ofthe history herein related he is well past fifteen years of age. Hisfather is a physician, by no means rich, but in very comfortablecircumstances.

  Billy Worth, fun-loving and jolly, but an earnest young fellow, too, isa little younger than Phil and in general appearance quite his opposite,being short and stout. Yet let none suppose that that stocky frame ofhis carries an ounce of anything but bone, muscle and good, redblood--good, red blood that glows in his cheeks, and helps to placethat alert, snappy expression in his twinkling brown eyes. So much forWilliam Worth, Junior. William Worth, Senior, it may be stated, isengaged in machinery manufacturing.

  A member of this quartette of friends I am sure you will like is PaulJones--slight, slender, audacious. He has been in long trousers lessthan a year. He wears his motor cap far back on his head and rakishlylow on one side. His sandy hair, thus quite prominently exposed to view,is in a more or less tousled condition a greater part of the time. Of acare-free disposition is young Mr. Jones, however, and the rumpled stateof his hair bothers him not at all. It was brushed this morning, and,"Goodness, gracious! Can you expect a man's hair always to be just so?"Why, probably not. Then again, a good deal depends on the "man."

  Forgive a great deal to Paul. If he lacks something in generalrefinement and polish as compared to the other boys, it is because hisadvantages have not equaled theirs. Being an orphan, he has missed muchhis friends have received, though Mrs. Wilby, his sister, and JohnWilby, her husband, have given the otherwise homeless lad the best theirlimited time and means afford.

  Dave MacLester is of still another type. Nearly as tall as Phil, he ismuch heavier. He lacks the power of quick perception and quick movementscommon to his three friends, but outranks any one of them in strength.He is a dark-haired chap of Scotch descent and if he is just a littleslow, he is at least sure. His fault, if fault it may be called, is acertain moodiness of disposition, apt to reveal itself at times in hishopeless, pessimistic view of things. Maybe it would be more accurate todescribe this characteristic as his misfortune. He is at fault in regardto it only to the extent that he neglects or fails to strive against hisnaturally gloomy or irritated mental condition, and, so eventually growentirely away from it.

  One interesting fact about all the boys is the bond of union among them.Petty differences have arisen scores of times, of course; wordydisputes have occurred less frequently; but for a long, long time thefour have been almost inseparable, both in work and in play, theirunwritten motto being, "the best interests of one are the best interestsof all." Unselfishly every pleasure is shared, and uncomplainingly inevery task and duty each fellow does his share.

  The escape from the watchful eyes of Soapy Gaines and his followers withthe car and its load of baggage for this present expedition was broughtabout only because each one of the four worked in faithful harmony withthe general plan. What this plan was, has already become apparent.

  That the towing in of the Thirty to Knight & Wilder's garage was but apretense to throw the Trio off their guard, you have probably guessedfrom the beginning. It would be interesting, perhaps, to hear at lengthhow Billy and Dave rushed the automobile to the home garage uponreceiving word by 'phone that the Gaines party had been lured into theball game and forgetfulness, but more important matters are waiting.r />
  Let this part of the history be summed up briefly, then, by recordingonly the bare facts that, with the help of Paul, who did not remain atthe baseball park, it will be remembered, Worth and MacLester loaded theautomobile with camp outfit and baggage and were safely beyond the cityall within two hours.

  By a circuitous route, avoiding the streets most used for motor traffic,the three reached the country roads. Here, too, they chose the leasttraveled thoroughfares until fully ten miles had been placed betweenthem and Lannington.

  Even by the longer route, Littleton, nearly forty miles distant, mighthave been reached before dark; but to attract the least possible noticethey lingered in little frequented roads, and ran quietly into theYorkshire House garage and stable just after sundown. So was the car,laden down with the evidences of an extensive expedition, and wellcalculated to attract much notice, housed for the night.

  The three boys believed they had been observed by not one person likelyto mention having seen them--at least to anyone from whom, directly orindirectly, the Trio would obtain intelligence of their movements. Theytold Phil as much, and with evident satisfaction, when they met him uponhis arrival by suburban trolley car, later in the evening.--And nowanother day had come. The Auto Boys were in the best of spirits as theyleft the lately risen sun and Littleton in their rear.

  "'Westward the Star of Empire takes its way,'" quoted Billy Worth,waving his cap zestfully, as the automobile bowled smoothly along,MacLester at the wheel.

  "Takes its Way and also its Worth, and MacLester and Jones," shoutedPaul, with that expansive grin which never failed to bring a smile fromany sort of person disposed to be half-way good-natured.

  "Say, Jones, they've hung people out in the Ship woods country forhorse-stealing, and that's hardly a misdemeanor compared to suchdownright atrocities as you perpetrate! Goodness! That was bad!"declared Dave. He always did like to have a fling at Paul. "The best punis horrible, but a poor one!--"

  "What did you say about the 'breast bone' Mac?" shouted Jones, from thetonneau, with admirable pretense of having caught but two words andcaught neither of those correctly, as the car whizzed forward. Then,almost without pause, "Yes, I like the white meat, too!" he sang out.

  "White meat? Don't mention it! I'm positively starving," Worth put in,and in a twinkling the whole conversation changed to the subject of thenoonday lunch and what the car's larder afforded. Paul's hearingimproved very greatly, at once, by the way.

  "Why, we have a cheese-box full of cold ham and buns and baked beans andpickles and a cake and cheese and pie and--" Jones enumerated; thenMacLester, quickly going forward with the inventory, as Paul paused forbreath, added:

  "Sardines, bananas, olives and potato chips, and I'll bet half the stuffwill spoil on our hands."

  "Risk it!" Phil Way observed in the tone of one who speaks fromexperience. And somewhat later when a halt was made for luncheon,weighty evidence was presented that if any risk whatever existed it wasextremely slight. The very hour appropriated to a noonday purpose wasstrong testimony--not yet eleven o'clock. However, breakfast had beenextremely early, it will be remembered.

  With a great deal more haste than ceremony, the roadside repast beingfinished, dishes and food were packed away again and the automobile sentonce more bounding forward. Nearly fifty miles onward lay the littletown of Sagersgrove and here the Auto Boys expected to receiveinformation direct from Lannington concerning the movements of Gaines,Pickton and Perth.

  How much or how little those young gentlemen may have discovered by thistime, and what their intentions might be, were matters of markedinterest to the chums who had so cleverly outwitted them. They were morethan pleased with themselves, therefore, that their foresight hadprompted the making of arrangements with Mr. Knight to send a telegramto Sagersgrove to be received upon reaching there.

  That Knight & Wilder shared the secret of the four boys it is almostneedless to say. Even to knowledge of the destination and the realpurpose of the journey the garage proprietors had been taken intoconfidence. They were good, reliable friends, to begin with, and as thelocation of the Ship woods was remote from sources of automobilesupplies, it might be necessary to send to them for repairs. And as bothmen had shown a lively interest in the enterprise now under way, it wasquite certain Mr. Knight would not fail to have news of some kindawaiting the travelers at the point agreed upon.

  Meanwhile the probable and possible discoveries of the Chosen Three andwhat their ultimate plans would be were discussed over and over again.Even if Gaines and his followers should learn the direction the Thirtyhad taken--even if they chanced upon the discovery that the party hadspent the night in Littleton--they would still be unable to so much asguess the direction taken next.

  Again, even if the Trio had any knowledge of the great Ship forest theywould have no reason for supposing the four friends to be bent onreaching that wilderness. All the information the Gaines crowd had, sofar as known, and the thing which so seriously pricked their curiosity,was that sentence they had somehow overheard, "Three stones piled one ontop of another to mark the place."

  "They could connect that and the big woods if they knew where we wereheading for; but by itself the talk of the three stones gives themnothing to go by," urged Billy Worth. He had put the same thought intoslightly different words at least a half-dozen times before and theothers had done no less. But there was no cause to doubt his reasoning.

  "Three stones piled one on top of another" might be used to mark manyand many different sorts of places. They might be in town. They might bein the country, in pasture or meadow; beside a lake in the valley, or onthe summit of the hills. Again, what reason why they might not be in theheart of a great forest?

  The Ship woods comprised such a forest. Its very name was derived fromthe fact that for long years great timbers for ship building purposeshad been cut there. In one part or another of its vast expanse men wereat work the whole year through, sawing, chopping, hewing. A single"stick" from the forest's depths might measure more than one hundredfeet in length by three feet or more each way, in thickness. Perhapsfour teams of horses would be used to haul such a piece of timber out ofthe woods and to the railroad siding where it was loaded fortransportation to the owners' mills, many miles away.

  The fact that those who owned the forest did live a long distance fromit, naturally left the vast tract in the hands of only such men as wereemployed in cutting the big "sticks." And as the latter were littleinterested in anything more than the trees that would do for theirpurposes, the woods was for the most part regarded as pretty nearlypublic property. That is to say, no one so much as thought of askingpermission to go there, to camp, to hunt, to pick blackberries, oranything of the kind.

  Nor was anyone expected to do so, for that matter. The boss timber manand the crews which handled the saws, and axes, the heavy chains, thecanthooks and all the paraphernalia of their hard, hard work, asked noquestions of trespassers. They warned hunters against leaving campfiresburning and against dropping lighted matches in the leaves. They wouldpermit no one to chop into or otherwise injure a tree which might make"timber" then or later; but in general the occasional stranger whovisited these wilds was as free to come to hunt, to fish, to build abrush shack or camp, or to gather firewood, herbs or poles or bark--todo almost as he pleased in short--and as free to go away again, as hewould have been in the unclaimed forest of a new country.

  All this information and much more the Auto Boys had gathered. Plans fortheir trip had been under way all winter. In imagination they had oftenpictured the wild, rugged scenery of the locality. Working and talkingtogether, they had built for themselves a kind of aircastle on the banksof the swift, cold and rock-strewn stream skirting the edge of the bigwoods, in which, at least figuratively, they lived. They had seenthemselves in their tent, the automobile in a shelter close by, and alittle fire lighted to drive mosquitoes away, many and many an eveningtogether, while still the snow lay deep and the tinkle and gurgle ofthe swift-flowing stream were smothered be
neath the ice.

  Possibly it is true that in anticipation there is more pleasure than inrealization, yet few people actually believe it. Certainly Phil Way andhis friends did not. They had anticipated a lot of fun in this tour nowunder way at last, but one of its merriest features they had notforeseen at all. This was the keen delight they had in having givenGaines, Pickton and Perth the slip so nicely. Indeed, theirself-satisfaction over this incident was quite beyond measure, and DaveMacLester found no support whatever when he advanced a supposition thatthe telegram to be picked up in Sagersgrove would say the Chosen Oneswere in pursuit and probably not far behind.

  "Anyhow, we'll know all about it in about two and a half flicks of abobolink's tail," said Billy Worth, "for if that church spire up overthe trees yonder isn't Sagersgrove, I'm blind."

  Fortunately, then, for young Mr. Worth's eyes, the spire rising abovethe banks of green a half mile beyond, was that of the Methodist churchof the town he named. In a very brief time it had been reached, also,and from a very neat and clean old gentleman, who might have been thepreacher himself, although he was mowing the small church lawn, the ladsinquired their way to the telegraph office.

  Fortunately, again, it was not at all difficult to find one's way aboutin Sagersgrove. The telegraph office was in the wing of the operator'shome, "down the street two blocks, then turn to your left two blocks--alittle brown house, set low to the ground. You'll see the white and bluesign."

  Three minutes later Phil Way emerged from the side door of the identicalhouse the old gentleman described. He held up to expectant view a yellowenvelope, then opened the same, and, one foot on the running board, readin a low tone:

  To Phil Way and Party, Sagersgrove.

  Know you have gone. Don't know where. Rushing around crazy.

  "Wow!" yelled Paul Jones, with cheery emphasis. Which expression,although seeming to betray no very great depth of intellect, or tocommunicate any very particular intelligence, did appear to express thefeelings of the Auto Boys to a nicety.