The Auto Boys' Quest

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER IX

  THE CRAFTY PLAN OF MR. GOUGER

  The late afternoon sun shone with a softened light in the valley throughwhich Wolf creek flowed dark and sluggish from the Ship woods. Thestream itself looked very dark, indeed, where the shadows of the treeslay on the deeper pools. Where the sunbeams struck the ripples the waterhad a brighter, clearer hue and tinkled sweetly, soft and low, for thecurrent was moderate.

  Looking up stream from the low wooden bridge at the public road, onecould see that a sharp, irregular, wooded steep marked the limits of thevalley on the east. The rise of ground began only two score yardsdistant from the water and with it began, also, a thick growth of mostlysmall trees and brush.

  Rough ledges of sandstone and conglomerate rock cropped out of the earthin many places here, but the strip of land between the stream and thehillside was cleared of timber and lay quite level. Two parallel pathsthrough the coarse grass and among the straggling bushes marked aprimitive roadway midway between the slope and the creek. It extendedback through the valley, apparently, to where the woods a quarter of amile distant from the highway, stretched down from hill to hill, hidingthe creek and all beyond.

  As the sun was going down there rolled along the unfenced public roadskirting for nearly two miles this southern boundary of the Ship woods,a heavily laden touring car.

  "The bridge! The creek! That old trail through the valley--By Jinks,we're here!" cried a shrill young voice from the car. The machine hadcome to a halt where the rough road led back from the highway justbefore the bridge was reached.

  "Yes, we're _here_ and blessed if I see anything very thrilling aboutit!" came another voice, in tones of decidedly less enthusiasm. "At anyrate, though, we _are here_."

  Is it necessary to state that Paul Jones was the first speaker and thatDave MacLester was the second?

  "Well, scoot ahead, somebody! See if we can get down the bank and intothat pair of ruts through the grass, yonder, without turning turtle orblowing out a tire."

  This command, briskly delivered, came from Billy Worth who leaned, tiredand dusty, on the steering wheel.

  "All O.K.! Come ahead!" shouted Phil Way a second later. "The track downthe bank is here all right, but under the grass. Gently, Bill!"

  With a sudden plunge and stiff jerk the car went down the inclineleading from the road and across a broad, shallow ditch. Then slowly itrolled onto the grass and weed-grown trail leading up to the valley.

  Way walked rapidly in advance looking out for pitfalls or possiblecauses of danger to tires. "Might as well get the road cleared at once,fellows," he said, and the hint was sufficient. Paul and Dave jumpeddown from the slowly moving machine to lend assistance.

  Heavy wagons in summers that were past and the logging sleds of thetimber crews in winter had broken a well-marked road. It was still roughbut odd chunks of wood and the stones found here and there could be andwere thrown to one side.

  Paul Jones voiced with considerable earnestness the opinion that hewould rather pilot the car than "heave dornicks" out of the road; but asubdued chuckle from Billy, lazily driving forward as the course wasannounced clear, was all the comfort his observation brought him.

  "S'pose we needn't go more than thirty or forty miles back from theroad!" ejaculated MacLester grimly. He was quite out of breath from theeffort of up-ending a heavy pole that had lain across the trail. Also,as has been noted earlier, he was just the least bit tired andimpatient.

  "No farther back than we have to go to find a snug camping place," Philresponded with extra good humor. For cheerfulness is contagious and doesa great deal more to brighten up another's despondent mood than any sortof remonstrance against being glum could do. "Maybe that little pointdown by the creek is just what we want, now," Way went on gayly. "Holdup, Bill, till we peek around here some."

  The point did offer many advantages, being a low, grassy place, like asmall peninsula, where a water course curved about till it finallyreached the main stream. The creek formed a considerable pool just belowthe junction with the water-worn trench; for, while the latter, thoughdeep, was now nearly dry, it was apparent that in time of rain itstorrents rushed into the larger stream with both force and volume.

  "Rather flat and low, but pretty good at that," observed Way, hopefullysurveying the situation. "But maybe we'd better look a little further.What do you think, Mac?"

  "Reckon so," said Dave, and telling Worth to wait, the two went forwardto investigate.

  Paul Jones meanwhile had been tracing the deep, narrow bed of thesmaller stream, filled with the idea that its source must be in somespring. And presently he came running back shouting at the top of hisvoice--"Yelling like a wooden Indian," Billy said--"Say! oh, say! Here'sthe hunky-doriest place you ever dreamed about! Here's the one spot inall your natural life, for a fact!"

  The rapturous enthusiasm of Jones' tones caused Worth to jump down fromthe car and hurry toward him. Dave and Phil, now some distance forward,also hastened back, and together the quartette climbed the rise ofground toward the woods. What they found fully accounted for Paul'sdelighted manner.

  Here on a shelving plateau of conglomerate rock, overgrown with moss andpatches of velvety grass, was a level space several hundred feet inlength and perhaps fifty feet from the abrupt descent at its front tothe rough, irregular wall of natural stonework, rising as high as thetops of the trees, at the back.

  From a wide but shallow cave, in the wall at the rear, there trickled abeautifully clear and cool spring. For a time the water rested in anatural basin in the rocks, then overflowed through a tiny channel ofits own making. Deeper and wider this channel grew and so became thewater course, previously described, leading to the creek.

  Many small ash, beech and chestnut trees somehow found foothold in theearthy crevices of the rocks, but of underbrush, fallen timber orsimilar obstructions the place was quite clear. Being much higher thanthe valley before it, the little plateau caught the last rays of thesinking sun most charmingly as it also received the welcome visits ofthe wandering breezes that passed quite over the lower land.

  Of firewood, that most necessary factor in the making of a camp, therewas plenty both below and above the broad shelf. Water of the purestquality the spring afforded in abundance. For bathing, fishing or suchother accommodations as a good-sized stream could afford, the creek wasbut a few hundred feet away.

  "Great!" exclaimed Mr. William Worth approvingly. "Simply carniverous!"

  By which expression, it will be understood, he meant that the spot underinspection was extremely satisfactory, rather than exactly what hecalled it.

  "Never get the car up here!" declared MacLester, looking aboutdoubtfully. "Never get the car up here in the world!"

  "You leave that to me," cried Paul, blusteringly, as if Mac's remarkwere a challenge to himself personally. "I've heard of half-backs andquarter-backs and all that sort of thing, but I'll be blamed, Dave, ifyou aren't the champion hold-back of the United States! We'll get thecar up here like rolling off a log!"

  And although Paul's expression was possibly as much overdrawn as it waspicturesque, it may be stated at once that a means of running the Thirtyup to the higher level was provided without great difficulty. Thecutting down of a few straggling trees and clearing away of the brushwhere the southern edge of the wide ledge sloped off easily toward thepublic road, made all that remained quite safe and easy.

  The net result was that, ere the shadows grew so deep as to cause asuspension of operations, the car with all its heavy load stood closebeside the shallow cave and the spring. The campfire blazed cheerily afew minutes later and the sweet sizzle of frying bacon, always deliciousto a hungry man, filled the pure, wholesome air of the woods.

  The Auto Boys were very, very comfortable. Of this fact they assuredthemselves over and over again, although at no time was there room forthe slightest doubt in the case. And leaving them in this pleasantsituation, weary but entirely tranquil, restful and luxuriouslycontent, attention must at this point be returned
to Mr. Soapy Gaines,and the two companions of that very unselfish and highly agreeable younggentleman.

  It was on Thursday afternoon, it will be remembered, that the ChosenTrio set out from Lannington. Gaines' big and clumsy Roadster was loadedheavily. Freddy Perth at the wheel, Soapy at his side and Pickton buriedamong baggage strapped on and around the rumble seat, they headed towardSagersgrove by the most direct route. Without mishap the little town ofWaterloo was reached by dusk and there the night was spent. Pickton hadso adroitly planned matters that Gaines registered at the village hotelfor the entire party. He meant also that Soapy should have entirely tohimself the pleasant task of settling the bill in the morning. But itwas not to be. Very unselfishly that young gentleman ventured thesupposition, when breakfast was over that, as he was furnishing the carfor the trip, his companions would probably be prepared to pay thetraveling expenses.

  "Oh, whack 'em up all around," suggested Perth. "Thought that wasunderstood."

  Pickton said nothing.

  "Well, by George! I don't pay anybody's but my own!" growled Gaines. "Ifanybody thinks I'm soft, they better think again."

  This shot was so obviously intended for Pick that he flushed hot andscarlet. "Sure! Everybody's to pay his own way!" he said. Rathersheepishly he added, though: "We might have got breakfast cheaper alongthe road somewhere."

  And the foregoing dialogue but serves to illustrate the feeling thatexisted among the three companions. The unity, mutual trust and generousfriendship which characterized all the relations of the Auto Boys withreference to one another were wholly missing in the Chosen Trio. Thewonder is, indeed, that these three had remained together so long.

  True, Soapy wanted someone for company and someone to operate the carand to take care of it. Pickton had his own selfish end to serve bymaking use of Gaines in such ways as he could and Perth--Fred would haveborne a great deal just for the sake of being around the Roadster.

  Also, Fred liked both the other two, in a way. It was not hisdisposition to find fault or to be over-critical at any time. It did notso much as occur to him, for instance, that the uncomfortable rumbleseat, hemmed in with baggage, should be occupied by Soapy any part ofthe time as the car chugged on noisily but at no mean speed, towardSagersgrove.

  It lacked still two hours of noon when Eli Gouger, self-constituteddetective in Sagersgrove, beheld the heavy machine of the Chosen Triocoming down the main street of that peaceful town. He looked again and asudden thought smote upon his brain. Then he acted.

  Perhaps it should be explained that, following their uncomfortableexperience in pursuit of the Auto Boys through the Cowslip marshes, Mr.Gouger had even less admiration for Marshal Wellock than he hadentertained before. And now, as he saw the strange automobileapproaching, he realized that it was traveling at a considerably higherspeed than the ordinances of the town permitted. Also he realized thatif Marshal Wellock chanced to see the law's violation by these youngstrangers he would pounce upon them instantly.

  In no mood was the marshal, of late particularly, to let any motoristescape if there was the slightest reason for an arrest. The officer hadbeen made the butt of too much ridicule as a result of that chase thatended with him head first in the mud to be in a very amiable temper. Hewanted only the excuse and he would clap into jail any strangeautomobile user who entered the town.

  Well aware of all this, and well aware that he, himself, detectivethough he feign would be, was powerless to make an arrest, Mr. Gougerhastily planned a deep and crafty plan. He would win for himself adegree of glory which should make Marshal Wellock appear, in contrast,a most negligent and inefficient officer, to say the least.

  Frantically waving his arms, Mr. Gouger rushed into the street as thestrange car and its three passengers drew near. Pickton brought themachine to a halt.

  "You chaps will get arrested if ye don't watch out!" declared Mr.Gouger, vehemently, a little irritated by Gaines' instant and by nomeans polite inquiry, "What's hurting _you_?"

  "Fact is, you've been speeding half way through town. I own a machine,myself, an' I know. Maybe there's a warrant out for ye now," hecontinued rapidly.

  Pickton's jaw fell and Gaines felt a giving way inside as if his upperand lower halves had suddenly parted company at the waist line.

  "Guess--guess--we'd better not stop to talk about it then," said FreddyPerth, brokenly, but with a sadly forced grin.

  "Tell ye what, slip 'round here with me. Drive up slow. I'll get ye intomy barn an' a little later ye can slip out o' town," Mr. Gougersuggested. There was a gleam in his eye, however, and a sort of internalchuckle in his tones that would have been a warning had any of the Trionoticed them.

  "Well, blame it all! Show us _where_," growled Pickton, noticeablybolder now. "Lead on!"--This with solemn, dramatic air that would havebeen ridiculous had it not been so tragic.

  Mr. Gouger wasted time in very few more words. Through an alley heescorted the Trio, still in the car, to the yard at the rear of his ownmodest, frame dwelling in a side street close by. Asking the lads toleave their car partially screened from view beneath the low-branchingcherry trees, he invited them into a small, tightly-boarded cowstable.

  "Stay in here a spell. I'll be back," grinned the would-be detective,and suddenly stepping out he closed the door and locked it by means of alarge padlock attached to a chain. "Ye can consider yourselves underarrest _right now_," sang out Mr. Gouger, then, in tones of triumph,"I'll have the constable here right off an' ye can go before the 'squirean' pay up. Don't be speedin' next time till ye know there's no_detectives_ around."

  The astonishment of Messrs. Gaines, Pickton and Perth may be more easilyimagined than successfully described. They did not suspect the purposeand the reason for the imposition that had been practiced upon them, nordid they realize that their captor had no authority to make an arresthimself. He had taken this means of detaining them until he could summona constable, apparently, because he did not care to undertake the arrestalone. Having no knowledge of Mr. Gouger's lack of admiration forMarshal Wellock, of course, the lads ascribed the motives of that veryable disciple of Mr. Pinkerton entirely to a desire to share in the fineto be imposed upon them.

  These general conclusions the three boys reached in an extremely shortspace of time. What should they do? The day was warm and thetightly-closed stable was like an oven. In the cherry trees and alongthe hedge, bordered by bachelor buttons, at the opposite side of Mr.Gouger's back yard, the robins were twittering joyously. But theirlively notes awakened no responsive feeling in the hearts of theimprisoned Trio.

  Remotely possible is it, however, that, unnoticed though their musicwas, the songsters exerted an influence upon the thoughts of SoapyGaines; or it may have been only a coincidence. At any rate, his spokenwords were--

  "I'll be blamed, Pick, if you ain't a bird! Followed that duffer intothis trap like a pup trailing a meat wagon. Blame me, if you ain't areal _bird_!"

  Mr. Gaines' tones, it may be stated, were even less complimentary thanhis language.