by Roy Rockwood
CHAPTER VI
ON THE TRACK
The two boys gazed after Professors Henderson and Roumann. Thescientists were deep in a discussion of various technical matters,which discussion, it was evident, made them oblivious to everythingelse.
"Shall we ask them?" inquired Jack in a whisper.
"No; what's the use?" queried Mark. "Let's go off by ourselves, andperhaps we can discover something. If we could once get on the trail ofthe man who wrote the note, I think we could put our hands on theperson responsible for the blowing up of the motor."
"I agree with you. We won't bother them about our plans," and he wavedhis hand toward the scientists, who had, by this time, entered thehouse.
"In the first place," said Mark, as he and his chum turned from theyard, and walked along a quiet country road, "I think our best planwill be to find Dick Johnson, and ask him just where it was he met theman who gave him a quarter to bring the note to me."
"What for?" asked Jack.
"Why, then, we can tell where to start from. Perhaps Dick can give us adescription of the man, or tell from what direction he came. Then we'llknow how to begin on the trail."
"That's a good idea, I guess. We know where he disappeared to, or,rather, in nearly what direction, so that will help some."
"Sure. Well, then, let's find Dick."
To the inquiries of the two lads from the projectile, Dick Johnsonreplied that, as he had asserted once before, that the man was astranger to him.
"He was tall, and had a big black mustache," Dick described, "but hekept his hat pulled down over his eyes, so I couldn't see his face verywell. Anyhow, it was dark when I met him."
"Where did you meet him?" asked Mark.
"Not far from your house. He was standing on the corner, where you turndown to go to the woollen mill, and, as I passed him, he asked me if Iwanted to earn a quarter."
"Of course you said you did," suggested Jack.
"Sure," replied Dick. "Then he gave me the note, and told me where totake it, and I did. That wasn't wrong, was it?"
"No; only there seems to be something queer about the man, and we wantto find out what it is," replied Mark.
"What was the man doing when you saw him?" asked Jack.
"Standing, and sort of looking toward your house."
"Looking toward our house?" repeated Jack. "Was he anywhere near thebig shed where we build the machines?"
"Well, I couldn't say. Maybe he might have been."
"I guess that's all you can tell us," put in Mark, with a glance at hischum, to warn him not to go too much into details with Dick, for theydid not want it known that some enemy had tried to wreck the projectile.
"Yes, I can't tell you any more," admitted the small lad.
"Well, here's a quarter for what you did tell us," said Jack, "and ifyou see that man again, and he gives you a note for us, just keep youreye on him, watch where he goes, and tell us. Then you will get ahalf-dollar."
"Gee! I'll be on the watch," promised Dick, his eyes shining at theprospect of so much money.
"Come on," suggested Jack to his chum, after the small chap haddeparted. "Let's go down by the white bridge and make some inquiries ofpeople living in that vicinity. They may have seen a stranger hangingaround, and, perhaps we can get on his trail that way."
"All right," agreed Mark, and they walked on together.
They had gone quite a distance away from the bridge, and had madeseveral inquiries, but had met with no success, and they were about togive up and go back home.
"I know one person we haven't inquired of yet," said Mark, as theytramped along.
"Who's that?"
"Old Bascomb, who lives alone in a shack on the edge of the creek. Youknow the old codger who traps muskrats."
"Oh, sure; but I don't believe he'd know anything. If he did, he's socranky he wouldn't tell you."
"Maybe he would, if we gave him a little money for some smokingtobacco. It's worth trying, anyhow. Bascomb goes around a great deal,and he may have met a strange man in his travels."
"Well, go ahead; we'll ask him."
The muskrat trapper did not prove to be in a very pleasant frame ofmind, but, after Mark had given him a quarter, Bascomb consented toanswer a few questions. The boys told him about looking for a strangeman, describing him as best they could, though they did not tell whythey wanted to find him.
"Wa'al, now, I shouldn't be surprised but what I know the very fellowyou want," said the trapper. "I met him a couple of days back, an' Ithink he's still hanging around. Fust I thought he was after some of mytraps, but when I found he wa'ant, I didn't pay no more attention tohim. He looked jest like you say."
"Where was he?" asked Jack eagerly.
"Walkin' along the creek, sort of absent-minded like."
"You don't know where he lives, or whether he is staying in thisvicinity, do you?" inquired Mark.
"Ya'as, I think I do," replied the trapper.
"Where?" cried Jack eagerly.
"Wa'al, you know the old Preakness homestead, down by the bend of thecreek, about four mile below here?"
"Sure we know it," answered Mark. "We used to go in swimming not farfrom there."
"Wa'al, the old house has been deserted now for quite a spell," went onthe trapper, "and there ain't nobody lived in it but tramps. But theother night, when I was comin' past, with a lot of rats I'd jest takenout of my traps, I see a light in the old house. Thinks I, to myself,that there's more tramps snoozin' in there, and I didn't reckon it wasnone of my business, so I kept on. But jest as I was walking past themain gate, some one come out of the house and hurried away. I had agood look at him, an'----"
"Who was it?" asked Mark impatiently, for the old trapper was a slowtalker.
"It was the same man you're lookin' for," declared Bascomb. "I'm sureof it, an' he's hangin' out in the old Preakness house. If you want t'see him, why don't you go there?"
"We will!" cried Jack. "Come on, Mark. I think we're on the trail atlast."
