The Speedwell Boys and Their Ice Racer; Or, Lost in the Great Blizzard

by Roy Rockwood

  CHAPTER XIX

  LOST IN THE BLIZZARD

  “I’ve got nothing against the lads,” explained the sheriff, sittingsideways on the front seat after bringing the horses down to a morequiet pace, and speaking so the girls on the back seat could hear him.“But some things I have heard make me suspicious.”

  “They seem to have had something to do with a boy called ‘theDummy’—he’s been to their house, you know. You told me so yourself,Parker.”

  Mildred flashed Lettie a sharp glance and the red-haired girl had thegrace to blush. So it had been _her_ chattering to her father of whatthe Speedwell boys had told them about the island, and Dummy, that hadset the sheriff to looking up Dan and Billy.

  “This dummy seems to be the important link in our case againstSteinforth and his co-operators. Most of the gang were arrested monthsago by the Federal officers. But the engraving plates they worked fromand a lot of finished notes, as well as a coiner’s outfit, were cachedby the outlaws before their arrest.”

  “Now, this Biggin, and the dummy, who is his nephew——”

  “Oh! is he _really_ dumb?” cried Lettie, curiously.

  “No. Dreadfully tongue-tied, I believe. A good person to trust a secretto, for he couldn’t tell it easily,” and the sheriff laughed.

  “But is the poor boy really a criminal?” asked Mildred, faintly.

  “Why—as to that——No! I fancy he is attached to Biggin. And Biggin wasnever really a member of Steinforth’s gang. Biggin drinks—that’s hisfailing. He used to go off into the woods on lonesome sprees. That’s howhe fell in with the counterfeiting gang, he told me.

  “Well, when the Federal officers got close on the trail of the outlawsthey hid the plates and other things I mentioned, and sort of leftBiggin in charge of the camp. But at once all the sheriffs in the Stategot busy. There’s a good, big reward offered for the discovery of theevidence the authorities need to convict the gang.

  “After Biggin talked with me, he got scared. He wrote me he’d send thedummy to lead me to the place where the plates, and so forth, werecached. But he never came to me—the dummy didn’t, I mean.

  “Now, what you tell me, Parker, about the Speedwells meeting and beingfriendly with Biggin’s nephew, has made me suspicious——”

  “I’m sorry if it made you suspicious of Dan and Billy,” said the countyclerk. “No need.”

  “That may be. But they go out to that island—and I believe the dummy ison the island part of the time. It may be, from what you tell me aboutthe paper the Speedwells say he dropped, that the engraving plates andthe other stuff is hidden on that Island Number One.”

  “You haven’t any reason to suspect Dan and Billy, just the same,”declared Mildred, promptly.

  Both the sheriff and Mr. Parker laughed. “Now, don’t you put me in yourbad books, Miss Milly,” begged Sheriff Kimball. “I don’t mean to causethe boys any trouble. I am hoping to-night to catch Harry Biggin andmake him talk plainly. That’s the object of this trip—although it is apleasure to take you young ladies for a drive,” and he laughed again.

  He spoke to the horses then, and the blacks switched their tails and“let out a notch” in their speed. They seemed as eagerly desirous ofcovering the distance to the Biggin farm in a short time as theirmaster.

  The girls cowered down behind the high back of the front seat, and sohad the wind broken for them. But it was awfully cold. Now and then aflake of snow slanted down upon them, and the girls’ shoulders werenicely powdered before the sheriff turned the horses’ heads toward thefar side of the river, and they found an easily sloping bit of bank upwhich they could drive.

  This was beyond the last of the string of islands, and the lights ofMeadville—on the other bank—were in sight. Just ahead, as the horsesstruggled into a well traveled highway, where the runners gritted on thehalf-bare ground, was a lamp in a window.

  “Biggin’s place,” said the sheriff. “And the folks are up yet.”

  The snow was gathering by this time, for it had taken them more than twohours to drive from Riverdale, spry as the horses had been. And, withoutdoubt, the blacks were glad of the breathing spell promised them whenthe sheriff drove directly under the wind-shelter beside the farmhouse.This shed offered a warm spot even to the guests the sheriff hadbrought.

  “Don’t want to take you to the house till I find out how the land lies,”he whispered, handing the reins to Mr. Parker, and slipping out fromunder the robe.

  “O-o-o! doesn’t it make you feel de-lic-ious-ly shivery?” whisperedLettie to the doctor’s daughter. “Just like being on a regular man-huntwith the sheriff? We’re his posse.”

  “Goosey!” returned Mildred. “I’m on the point of shivering, all right.But only from cold.”

  “Are you well wrapped up, girls?” asked the county clerk.

  “Oh, yes, sir,” answered Mildred. “And the bricks are still warm at ourfeet. But I’m afraid it’s going to snow dreadfully hard.”

  “What’s a little snow?” demanded the careless Lettie. “Who’s afraid?”

  “I wouldn’t want to be caught out on the river in a heavy storm—wouldyou, sir?” asked Mildred of Mr. Parker.

  “It’s a straight road home,” said the gentleman, quite as careless ashis daughter. “The river ought to be better than the road, as far as_that_ goes.”

  “But just suppose we got turned around in this snow?” Mildred objected,turning her head to watch the flakes falling thicker every moment.“_Did_ you ever see it snow so hard, Lettie?”

  “Lots of times—sure. Don’t be a ’fraid cat, Milly.”

  The doctor’s daughter kept her fears to herself thereafter. Mr. Parkerproduced a vacuum bottle filled with hot milk. He had been thoughtfulenough to supply himself with that before leaving the house for thislong ride. The hot drink helped the girls immensely.

  “Now I can stand anything,” declared Lettie, happily. “When are we goingto be called into action by the sheriff, Pa?”

  “He _does_ seem a long time; doesn’t he?” returned her father, as thehorses stamped, and shook their heads, and tinkled the bells on theharness.

  Finally they heard a door shut, and in a moment Sheriff Kimballappeared. He looked pretty serious in the light of the sleigh lamps.

  “What do you know about that?” he said, crossly. “They swear Harryhasn’t been here, and invited me to search the house for him. And I didit, too. I’ve got it in for that boy, when I _do_ catch him. He’s onlyscared; but he knows more hide-outs in the wild country between here andBarnegat than anybody else. He’s run wild in the woods most of his life.

  “He left a message for me, though. Tells me to go to Island Number Oneand see the dummy. Now, I’ve been there—twice. I couldn’t find hide norhair of that boy either time.”

  “We might stop going back?” suggested Mr. Parker.

  “I mean to. But, I declare! it’s come on to snow hard.”

  “Oh, a little snow won’t hurt us. We’re neither sugar nor salt,” criedLettie. “And chasing outlaws is awfully interesting,” and she giggledagain, seeing her chum’s serious face.

  “I guess we won’t wait long at that island to-night,” observed SheriffKimball, when he had backed the sleigh out of the shed and got theimpatient horses headed around again.

  “Will you go back by the river, or the road?” asked Mr. Parker.

  “Oh, the river. This road is half bare yet, you see,” as the runnersscraped over a “sand-bar.” “We’ll slip along on the ice twice as fast,you know. Come up, Dandy! Steady, Poke!”

  The blacks got into step and they spun away along the short stretch ofroad and then down upon the river. At first they did not realize howhard the wind was blowing, being sheltered to a degree by the high bank.But when Mr. Kimball headed out into the middle of the stream, intendingto cross to the Riverdale side of the river, the travelers quicklydiscovered that they were in the heart of a severe storm.

  “Some blow�
�eh?” shouted Mr. Parker, into the sheriff’s ear.

  “This is a bad storm, Parker. I—had—no—idea——”

  He was having trouble with his spirited team. The gusts of wind whichdrove the snow down upon them, fired the blacks with a desire to run.They ran in the right direction for a while; but soon they were winded,for the sleigh pulled heavily through the gathering drifts.

  There were flaws in the gale. Suddenly the wind shifted from point topoint of the compass. The two men could not see a light upon either bankof the river. Indeed, before long it was difficult to know whether thehorses were dragging them down the stream, or up.

  The snow fell faster and faster. The girls, locked in each other’s armson the rear seat, were covered with a fresh blanket. They did not knowthat the men in front robbed themselves to do this.

  The cold was penetrating—horribly so! Now and then a swirling, whirlingeddy of wind and snow fell upon the sleigh, the horses, and all, andwell nigh turned them around. The men were choked by the storm; thehorses snorted and plunged, and were able to move on but slowly.

  “Dickens of a mess we’ve got into, Kimball!” shouted Parker in thesheriff’s ear.

  “I’m sorry I ever suggested taking these children with us. It’s awful,Parker,” said the worried sheriff.

  At that instant there came a sudden lull in the storm. The wind fell,and the soft “sh-sh-sh” of the snow seemed rather soothing. But therewas a sharper sound discernible, now that the tempest was lulled.

  “Put! put! put-a-put!”

  “What d’ye know about that?” cried the county clerk, seizing thesheriff’s arm. “It’s a motor—what?”

  “It is. It’s that motor-iceboat. I heard it to-day when the Speedwellswere trying it out.”

  “Then it’s Dan and Billy,” declared Mr. Parker. “Well, now! what do youthink of that? Out on the river in such a storm. Shall we shout tothem?”

  “My goodness, do!” cried Lettie, poking her head over the back of theseat. “If Billy Speedwell is out there, he’ll know the way home—sure.Let’s _all_ shout, Pa!”

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