While under such a strain of mind, the boys could not remain quiet, and so they set off through the woods in the direction of the road. It was hard walking, and several times they had to literally force their way through the brushwood. Then they came to a swamp and had to make a detour, for fear of getting stuck in the mud. When they at last reached the road they were well-nigh exhausted.
“I’ll have to rest just a minute!” panted Sam. “Say, that was something fierce, wasn’t it?” And he sank on a rock.
“Listen! I think I hear somebody coming!” cried Dick.
All strained their ears, and presently made out the sounds of a farm wagon moving slowly over the rocky roadway that was hidden by the trees. Then the turnout came into view, loaded with freshly-cut cord wood, and drawn by a pair of bony, white horses. On the seat of the wagon sat an aged colored man, talking volubly to his team.
“Hello there, uncle!” cried Dick, as the wagon came closer. “Stop a minute, I want to talk to you.”
“What you-all wants?” demanded the colored man nervously, for the spot was a particularly lonely one.
“Did you come from the direction of Snagtown?” went on Dick.
“Dat’s wot I did, sah.”
“Did you see anything of a big automobile going that way, one with a coach top?”
At this question the aged colored man blinked his eyes and shifted uneasily. He glanced back, over his load of wood.
“I—I ain’t got nuffin to say, boss, I ain’t got nuffin to say!” he answered finally, and prepared to drive on.
“Oh, yes, you have got something to say—and you are going to say it!” cried Dick, and he ran forward, in front of the horses, and caught hold of one by the bit.
CHAPTER XXIII
AT CLOSE QUARTERS
“Say, you dun let my hosses alone!” cried the colored man, in fright.
“Don’t you dare to drive away until you have answered our questions,” returned Dick, firmly.
“I—I don’t want to git in no trouble, boss—’deed I don’t!” wailed the driver of the farm wagon.
“Well, you answer our questions, and tell us the strict truth.”
“I—I didn’t do nuffin, give you-all my word I didn’t!”
“But you saw the auto, with the men and the girls in it?” cried Dick, sharply.
“Ye-as, sah, I—I did, sah,” was the stammered-out reply.
“Where did you see them?”
“Down in Snagtown, sah.”
“What were the folks in the auto doing?”
“Da was a-waitin’ fo’ one of de men to fix up de wheel. De rubber on de wheel dun got busted.”
“I see. And what were the men in the auto, and the girls, doing?” went on Dick, quickly.
“Say, boss, I don’t want no trouble, ’deed I don’t! I didn’t do nuffin! I jess looked at’ em, dat’s all. An’ dat one man he said he’d mak me suffer if I opened my mouf ’bout wot I saw,” explained the aged colored man, in a trembling voice. “I’se an honest, hard-workin’ man, I is! I works fo’ Massah Sheldon fo’ sixteen years now, an’ he’ll dun tole yo’-all I’se honest, an—”
“All right, I believe you are honest,” answered Dick, in a kindlier tone. “But those men are rascals, and we want to catch them. They carried those two girls off against their will.”
“Dat’s wot I was suspicioned of, boss, fo’ de young ladies was a-cryin’ hard an’ wanted to git out, an’ de men wouldn’t let ’em. I wanted to do sumfing fo’ ’em, but the men tole me go mind my own business, or git my haid busted, so I drove on.”
“How many men were there?”
“Three men, ’sides de man wot was a-mendin’ de busted wheel.”
“The doctor and Crabtree and Sobber!” murmured Tom.
“Or Koswell and Larkspur,” added Sam.
“How far away from here is that place?” went on Dick.
“About a mile an’ a half, sah. But the road am putty stony an’ rough, sah.”
“Can a fellow ride horseback on those horses?”
“Yo’ might, sah, if yo’ had a saddle. But da ain’t no saddle. Is yo’-all thinkin’ of goin’—”
“We’ll take those horses,” cut in Dick, shortly. “Now, don’t worry, we’ll pay you well for using them, and see that they come back safely. We have got to save those two girls, and we’ll put those men in prison if we can.”
The old colored man was so amazed that he was all but bewildered. He did not want to let the horses go, but the boys gave him no choice in the matter. They unharnessed the steeds, and took the blankets on the wagon seat for saddles.
“Sam, I guess Tom and I had better go on ahead,” said Dick. “You can follow on foot, if you want to, and you can come, too, if you wish,” he added, to the colored man.
“Say, ain’t you afraid ob gitting shot, or sumfing like dat?” asked the driver of the wagon.
“Maybe we can do a little shooting ourselves,” answered Dick, grimly.
“Is yo’-all armed?”
“We are.”
“Den I’ll follow on foot, wid dis young gen’men,” said the colored man. He was afraid that if he did not follow he would not get the team back.
Once on horseback, Dick and Tom did not linger. Along the rough, hill road they sped, urging the bony steeds along as best they could. Fortunately there were no side trails to bewilder them.
“I hope we get there in time,” remarked Tom, as they proceeded.
“So do I,” answered Dick. “If they had a blow-out it may take that chauffeur quite some time to put on a new inner tube and a shoe.”
“If he had only busted his engine!” murmured Tom.
The way now became so rough that they had all they could do to keep on the horses, and they wondered at the men in the automobile traveling such a road.
“I suppose they came because it’s so lonely,” said Dick. “They knew they’d be sure to meet more or less carriages and wagons on the turnpike, and if the girls screamed they might be rescued.”
At last they topped a hill and could see, on the top of the next hill, a deserted house, the first of the deserted village of Snagtown. This made them renew their efforts, and soon they were struggling up the hill towards the house.
“Hark!” burst out Tom, suddenly. “What’s that?”
“An engine!” exclaimed his brother. “They must have started up their auto!”
“If that’s the case, the wheel must be mended!”
“Yes! Come on, there is no time to lose!”
Past the deserted house they rode, and then around a turn where were located several other houses and barns. Then they came in sight of the deserted mill, down in a hollow by a stream. Further still was a bridge and not far from this structure stood a big, enclosed touring car painted dark blue!
“There it is! There’s the auto!” cried Dick.
“And they are starting up!” added his brother. “Hi! stop! Stop, you rascals!” he yelled.
The horses clattered through the lonely street of the deserted village and the noise they made and the shouting, made those in the automobile look back.
“Two men on horseback!” cried one of the men.
“The Rover boys, Dick and Tom!” exclaimed another. “Hurry up!”
“It’s old Crabtree!” cried Dick, as he saw the head of that individual thrust out of the touring car. “And Tad Sobber!” he added, as a second head appeared.
“Stop! stop, you rascals!” continued Tom. “Don’t you dare to go another step!”
“Save us! Save us!” came in girlish voices from the interior of the touring car. “Oh, Dick! Oh, Tom! Save us!”
“Hurry up—start her up!” screamed Tad Sobber frantically, to the chauffeur. “Put on all power!”
The driver was already in his seat and the motor was humming lou
dly. He threw in the low gear, and off the touring car started slowly. After it clattered Dick and Tom, still a hundred feet in the rear.
“Let me get out!” screamed Dora. “Oh, let me get out!”
“Yes! Yes!” pleaded Nellie. “Please let us get out!”
“Stop your noise and sit still!” commanded Josiah Crabtree. And he and Sobber and the third fellow forced the two girls back on the seat.
Dick and Tom urged the horses forward with all speed. But before they could reach the touring car, the chauffeur threw in second speed and then quickly changed to high, and away the automobile rattled, over the rickety bridge. The structure had not been built for such a weight, and, just as the machine reached the other side, the bridge went down with a crash.
“Look out!” yelled Dick, and the warning came none too soon, for both he and Tom were almost on the bridge. They turned their horses just in time, came to a sudden halt in some bushes, and stared blankly at each other.
“Gone!” cried Tom, hollowly. “Oh, what luck!”
“Quick, your pistol, Tom!” cried Dick, suddenly.
“But the girls—” began the other.
“Don’t shoot at the car, shoot at the tires,” explained Dick. And then he whipped out his own weapon, got into range, and began to blaze away.
Each of the boys fired three shots. One hit the back lamp of the automobile, smashing the red glass, and another hit the differential case and glanced off. But the wheels remained untouched, and in a few seconds the big touring car was out of sight around a bend. The lads heard a scream from the two girls, and then all that reached their strained ears was the sound of the motor, growing fainter and fainter, until it died out altogether.
Dick and Tom felt sick at heart. They had been so near to rescuing the girls, and now they seemed as far off as ever! Each heaved a deep sigh.
“I suppose we can’t follow them, with the bridge down,” said Tom.
“We might ford the stream,” said Dick. “But what would be the use of trying to follow on horseback? They know we are after them and they will put on all the speed possible.”
“Well, what’s to do next, Dick?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m not going to sit still and do nothing.”
“Neither am I, Tom. But what to do next I really don’t know.”
CHAPTER XXIV
AT THE SWAMP
“Where are they? Didn’t you catch up to them? Who fired those shots?”
It was Sam who shouted the words, as he came up on a run, followed by the aged negro.
“They got away,” answered Dick, bitterly. “We were just a minute too late!”
“Can’t you go after them?”
“Not on horseback, Sam.”
“And, if the horses were all right, look there!” cried Tom, and pointed to the fallen bridge.
“Down! What did it, the auto?”
“Yes.”
“Fo’ de lan’ sake!” burst out the negro farm hand. “De bridge hab gone bust down! Say, how is we-all to git ober dat stream after dis?”
“I give it up,” said Tom. “The authorities will have to rebuild it, I guess.”
“Nobudy ain’t gwine to do dat, boss. Kase why? Kase dis road was built fo’ de mill an’ de people wot lived heah. Now de mill ain’t runnin’ an’ de people moved away, da ain’t much use fo’ the road, an’ nobuddy ain’t gwine to put up de bridge—an’ Ike Henry, dat’s me, has got to tote things ’round by de udder road after dis!” he added ruefully.
“Well, we can’t bother about the bridge,” replied Dick. “The authorities can fight it out with those fellows who are running the auto.”
“But the shots?” queried Sam. He had dropped on a flat rock to rest.
“We tried to hit the tires—but we failed,” explained Tom. “The auto was moving too fast, and the trees and bushes were in the way. Besides, we didn’t want to hit the girls.”
Dick and Tom walked down to the stream. It was not very deep and they concluded that they could easily get to the other side, by leaping from one bit of wreckage to another,—thus keeping from getting wet,—for at that season of the year the water was decidedly cold.
“Let us go over and climb to the top of the next hill,” said Dick. “We may be able to see which direction the auto takes.”
The others were willing, and telling the colored man to wait a while for them, and promising him good pay, they climbed over the sunken bridge to the other shore of the stream. Then they raced along the rocky road, around a bend, and up a steep hill that all but winded them.
“I see the machine!” cried Tom, who was the first to top the rise. “Look!” And he pointed with his hand, down in the valley that lay stretched out before them like a map in the gathering darkness.
At a great distance, moving at a fair rate of speed, was the enclosed touring car containing Dora and Nellie and their abductors. It was headed for a distant main road, lined here and there with farmhouses and outbuildings. Presently it turned into this mainroad, and started westward, at an increased rate of speed.
“My, see them streak along!” murmured Sam.
“They are evidently going to put as much distance as they can between themselves and us,” returned Tom.
“Say, do you see any telephone wires?” asked Dick, anxiously.
“Not a wire,” came from his brothers, after a long look for lines and poles.
“Neither do I. I guess they haven’t any connections at those farmhouses, so it will be useless to walk there.”
“But what shall we do, Dick?” asked Tom, impatiently. “We can’t sit still and do nothing!”
“We’ll go back to the Dartaway and fly after them.”
“But the wind—” began Sam.
“It has gone down a little, I think, Sam. And anyway, we’ve got to take a chance—it’s the only thing left. If you don’t want to go—”
“Dick, stop right there! If you go I’ll go,” cried the youngest Rover, firmly. “I’m as much interested in this as anybody, even though Grace isn’t there,” he added, with a show of color in his round cheeks.
But little more was said just then. The three boys ran down the hill to the stream and crawled back over the wreckage.
“I guess those horses can carry the lot of us,” said Dick; and so it was arranged, Dick and Sam getting on the back of one steed and Tom and Ike Henry on the other. The boys asked the colored man about telephone connections, but he could give them little information excepting to state that his employer had no such convenience.
At last the boys reached the spot where they had come out of the woods after leaving the Dartaway and skirting the swamp.
“Have you a lantern on the wagon?” asked Dick, of Ike Henry.
“Yes, sah.”
“Then we’ll have to buy or borrow it, my man. Supposing I give you two dollars for the use of the horses and another dollar for the lantern, how will that strike you?”
“Dat’s all right, boss,” answered Ike Henry, who remembered that the lantern had cost but seventy-five cents.
Dick passed over the bills and received the lantern, which was filled with oil, and also a box of matches, which Ike Henry chanced to carry.
“Wot you-all gwine to do now?” asked the colored man, as he prepared to hitch up his team again.
“We are going back into the woods, where we left our flying machine,” answered Tom.
“You-all be careful dat yo’ don’t git in de swamp. Dat am a terribul bad spot.”
“We’ll be careful.”
“Tell me, where does that mainroad on the other side of the river run to?” put in Dick.
“Dat road?” queried Ike Henry. “Dat way or dat way?” and he motioned first to the east and then to the west.
“I mean to the westward.”
“Why, dat’s de way to git to Sherodburg an’ Fremville.”
“Do you know how far those places are?”
“Sherodburg am ’bout eight miles; Fremville am ’bout twenty or moah.”
“All right. Come on, boys,” said Dick. “Good night, Ike.”
“Good night, sah! Much erbliged!” cried the aged colored man. “Hope yo’-all dun catch dem rascals,” he added earnestly.
“We’ll do our best,” answered Tom.
In a few seconds more the Rover boys had plunged into the woods. Here it was quite dark, and Dick took the lead, holding the lantern close to the ground, so that he might follow the trail he and his brothers had made on leaving the Dartaway. All were gratified to find that the wind had died down completely.
“I don’t know how a run in the darkness will go,” said Dick. “But we can try it. But I don’t see how we are to steer.”
“I’ve got my pocket compass with me,” answered Sam. “That may help some. We know those towns are west of us. We can sail along until we see the lights and then go down and ask about the touring car.”
“A good idea, Sam.”
Skirting the swamp with only the rays from the lantern to aid them was no easy task, and once Tom slipped from a clump of rushes and went down over his ankles in soft mud.
“Hi! hi! help me out!” he yelled. “Quick, before I get in any deeper!”
“Stand still!” called back Dick, and placed the lantern in another clump of rushes. Then he caught hold of a tree that was handy and took a grip on Sam’s hand. “Now catch hold of Tom,” he went on, and the youngest Rover did so. Then came a long and strong pull, and with a sucking sound, poor Tom came out of the sticky mud and landed beside his brothers.
“Wow! that’s a mess!” said the fun-loving Rover, as he surveyed his feet, plastered thick with the mud.
“Stick to the dry ground after this,” advised Dick. “Come on, the dead leaves will soon brush that mud off.” And forward he went once more, holding the lantern as before. In a little while after this the swamp was left behind, and then progress through the woods was more agreeable.
“Dick, don’t you think we ought to be getting to the Dartaway pretty soon?” asked Tom, after a quarter of an hour more had passed and they were still moving forward.
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