“Oh, what shall we do—what shall we do?”
It was Mrs. Wadsworth who uttered the words. She sat in the luxuriously furnished living room of the Wadsworth mansion, wringing her hands while the tears stood on her cheeks. In front of her was the rich jewelry manufacturer, pacing up and down and biting his lip in deep thought.
“Don’t take it so hard, Alice, my dear,” said the husband in a husky voice. “It’ll come out all right—I am sure it will.”
“But, Oliver, I am so frightened! Think of those poor girls in the hands of those awful gypsies—or somebody just as bad, or worse! It’s dreadful! I can’t bear to think of it!” and Mrs. Wadsworth’s tears began to flow afresh.
In a corner of the library sat old Caspar Potts, white-haired and with eyes that were no longer bright. The professor’s head was shaking from side to side.
“I wish Davy were here,” he quavered. “I’m sure that boy could do something.”
“He has telegraphed that he is on the way, 193along with Roger Morr,” said Mr. Wadsworth.
“Good! Good! He’ll do something—I know he will! Davy is a great boy!” and the old professor nodded his head vigorously. Ever since he had taken our hero from the poorhouse years before, Dave had been the very apple of his eye.
Oliver Wadsworth walked to a writing-table, and from one of the compartments drew a much-rumpled sheet of paper, which had come to him in a dirty envelope several days before. The envelope had been post-marked, “Halwick,” the name of a town about thirty miles away.
“What are you going to do about that demand for money?” questioned Mrs. Wadsworth, as she watched her husband peruse the note—something he had done a great number of times.
“I don’t know,” he answered helplessly. “We have been given at least ten days in which to raise it, so there is no great hurry about deciding the question.”
“Is Mr. Porter in favor of meeting the demand?”
“He is like myself, he doesn’t know what to do. He and Dunston Porter are both of the opinion that this demand for fifty thousand dollars may be just the forerunner of other demands. They may want every cent all of us are worth before they give the two girls up,” added the jewelry manufacturer.
194“But, Oliver! if you don’t give them the money——”
“I know, I know, Alice. We’ll have to fix it up somehow,” answered the husband hastily. Then he sat down beside her and put his arm around her shoulder. “Please don’t worry so. I am sure we’ll be able to fix this matter up somehow sooner or later, and that the girls will come back safely.”
“Oh, I wish I could believe you!” burst out the distressed woman. And then, unable to control herself longer, she burst into a passionate fit of weeping, and betook herself away to her bedroom.
From outside came the sound of an automobile rolling along the gravel roadway, and looking from a window the manufacturer saw Dave’s father alight, followed by Dunston Porter. Both showed signs of weariness, and the look on the face of each betokened keen disappointment.
“Any success?” demanded the jewelry manufacturer quickly, as the pair entered the house.
“Nothing worth speaking about,” answered Dunston Porter. “We hired another detective and sent him off to Halwick.”
“The authorities have no news whatever,” added Dave’s father. “They have received telegrams from all the large cities within three hundred miles of this place, and not a trace of the 195girls has come to light. They claim that it’s the strangest disappearance on record.”
“But this demand for money——” began Oliver Wadsworth.
“Yes, they are trying to sift that out, too. But they don’t seem to be able to get anywhere with it. They have advised that you continue to keep quiet about it, and they said they would keep quiet, too. Nevertheless, I think the news has leaked out somehow.”
“Let me see that letter again,” said Dunston Porter, and perused the communication as carefully as the jewelry manufacturer had done. It was written in heavy lead pencil in evidently a disguised hand, and was as follows:
“The to girls Jessie Wadsworth and Laura Porter are safe in our hands. We will take good care of them but you wil haf to pay the price and do it inside of ten days or two weeks at longest. We mean busines so no funy work. We want fifty thousand dollars from you Mr. Wadsworth and from them Porters. Each of you can pay as much of the amount as you plese. We want the money in cash and wil send you word just were it is to be placed and at what time. If you fale us you will be mighty sory for we mean busines. Dont make no mistak about that. If you pay the money as we want the girls will be back home safe inside of two days and not a hare of there head harmed. Now take warning for we mean busines and wont stand for no nonsence.”
196“This was either written by a very illiterate person or else by somebody who tried to make out he was such,” was Dunston Porter’s comment.
“I think it is just such a letter as one of those young gypsies might write,” answered Dave’s father. “Most of them have some education, but not a great deal.”
Both Mr. Wadsworth and Dave’s father had had a great deal of business to attend to during the past few weeks, and Dunston Porter had been kept busy assisting Mr. Basswood in turning the vacant land on the outskirts of Crumville into building plots and offering them for sale. But since the unexpected and mysterious disappearance of the two girls all thoughts of business had been brushed aside.
“Dave and Roger ought to be here almost any time now,” remarked Dunston Porter. “But what good their coming on the scene is going to do, I can’t surmise.”
“You can’t blame them for wanting to come after receiving such news,” remarked Mr. Wadsworth. “Dave, I know, thinks a great deal of his sister, and you all know that he and Jessie think a great deal of each other.”
“Yes. And I know that Roger has his eye on Laura,” answered the girl’s father. “And she thinks a great deal of the young man.”
At that moment the telephone rang, and Dunston 197Porter went to answer it. A telegram was telephoned to him.
“Dave and Roger are now on their way from Albany,” he announced. “They will be here in about an hour. I think I’ll run down to the depot in the auto and meet them.” And so it was arranged.
There were no passengers as eager as Dave and Roger to leave the train when it rolled into the little station at Crumville. Dunston Porter was on hand, and they gazed eagerly at his face to see if it bore any signs of good news.
“No, I’ve got nothing to cheer you with,” he announced, after shaking hands and conducting them to the auto, into the tonneau of which they pitched their suit-cases. “We haven’t the least idea where they are or how they disappeared.”
“But, Uncle Dunston, you must have some news!” pleaded Dave.
“At least you can tell us how and when they left home and what was the last word you had from them,” said Roger.
“They made up their minds to go to Boston to visit Jessie’s aunt, Mrs. Brightling, just about two weeks ago,” answered Dave’s uncle. “They spent two or three days in getting ready; and then a week ago this Wednesday they started on the trip, Mrs. Wadsworth and the chauffeur taking them down to the depot. They carried one 198trunk, which was checked through to Boston, and Laura had a suit-case, and both of the girls had handbags. They had through tickets to Boston, and got on the train; and that was the last we saw or heard of them.
“We had expected to get a letter from Laura, and the Wadsworths expected a letter from Jessie, stating that they had arrived safely. When no letters came, Mrs. Wadsworth got nervous, and as a result she asked her husband to send a telegram to find out what was wrong.
“The telegram had just been sent when a telegram was received from Mrs. Brightling, asking how it was that the girls had not come on as expected. Then she telegraphed a little later that she had not seen them nor heard from them.
“A search was made at the depot in Boston, and the trunk was found just as it had been checked from here. The suit-case the girls had kept with them on the train.”
“But didn’t they meet anybody on the train who knew them?” questioned Dave.
“No one that we have heard from up to the present time. We have been making a number of inquiries, and, of course, expect to make more. You see, the people they met on the train were going away from Crumville, so that makes it difficult to follow them up. And besides that, so 199much time was lost in the first place, that I suppose a good many people would forget, even if they had seen them on the train.”
“But didn’t they have parlor-car chairs?” questioned Dave.
“No. The train had only one parlor car on it, and that was crowded. Mr. Wadsworth had telegraphed for seats, but there had been some mix-up, and as a consequence the girls had to put up with seats in one of the day coaches. Mrs. Wadsworth told them they had better wait for another train, but they laughed and said that they would rather go into one of the day coaches than lose the time.”
During this conversation Dunston Porter had started up the automobile and was on the way to the Wadsworth mansion. In a few minutes more they rolled up to the piazza, and there Dave’s father and Mr. Wadsworth came out to greet them, followed by the trembling form of Professor Potts.
It was a sorry home-coming for our hero, and Roger was equally affected. They shook hands with those who were there to greet them, and for the moment the emotions of all were so deep that nobody trusted himself to speak. All went inside, and it was old Caspar Potts who broke the silence.
200“If I were only a younger man!” he said in a trembling voice. “Davy, it’s up to you to do something—you and your friend Roger.”
“I’m going to do it if I possibly can, Professor,” answered the youth, huskily.
All sat down and the Crumville folks gave to the young civil engineers all the particulars they had concerning the strange disappearance of the two girls.
“And are you quite sure it is the work of those gypsies?” queried Roger.
“I don’t see who else would play such a dirty trick,” responded Mr. Wadsworth.
“Dave has another idea,” went on the senator’s son.
“What is that?” asked Dunston Porter quickly, while the others looked up questioningly.
“I’ve been wondering if Nick Jasniff wasn’t connected with this affair,” answered Dave.
“Nick Jasniff!” exclaimed Oliver Wadsworth. “You mean the fellow I helped to put in prison?”
“Yes.”
“What makes you think he could have had anything to do with it?”
“I’ll tell you,” answered our hero. And thereupon he related how he and Roger had first seen Nick Jasniff in the vicinity of the construction camp, and how, later on, he had been instrumental in having Jasniff sent away from the camp, and 201then how he had met the rascal on the road, had a fight, and lost the two letters and the contents of his pocketbook.
“I ought to have written about this, but I didn’t want to worry you folks too much,” he concluded.
“Dave, you may have struck the truth!” burst out Mr. Wadsworth excitedly. “It would be just like that rascal to do such a thing as this. And besides that, you must remember one thing—Jasniff was not pardoned.”
“Not pardoned!” burst out our hero and Roger simultaneously.
“No, he was not pardoned,” answered the jewelry manufacturer. “His case came up before the Board of Pardons, and after a hearing they recommended a pardon for him to the governor. But before the governor signed the order to let him go, Jasniff made his escape from the prison and ran away. Then, of course, the recommendation for a pardon was torn up and thrown in the waste-basket; so if the fellow is ever captured he can go back to prison and serve his term over again.”
“Well, what do you know about that!” cried Roger.
“No wonder Nick Jasniff wanted to leave the vicinity of the construction camp,” remarked Dave. “He must have reasoned that sooner or later we would learn that he hadn’t been pardoned and was wanted at the prison.”
“That must be it,” answered the senator’s son.
“If this Nick Jasniff is interested in the affair, we want to know it,” said Mr. Wadsworth. “I shall at once give the authorities the particulars of Jasniff’s doings, so that they can go on the hunt for him. They have his picture in the Rogues’ Gallery, and that can be copied and circulated, so that the authorities in different cities, and especially in this vicinity, can be on the lookout for him.”
“But why weren’t the authorities on the lookout for him before?” questioned our hero.
“They were at first. But then they got word that Jasniff had sailed for some port in South 203America, so they gave it up. Evidently the report was a false one.”
“Yes, and probably circulated by Nick Jasniff himself,” added Roger.
“Of course you have been over to Coburntown, where the gypsies went after they left here,” remarked Dave.
“We have been all around that territory,” answered his Uncle Dunston. “The gypsies have disappeared entirely, one report stating that they were bound south. I had them stopped at a town about fifty miles away, and those in the camp were closely questioned. They said that Mother Domoza had been left behind on account of sickness, and that two gypsies, one named Tony Bopeppo, and the other Carlos Vazala, had remained with her to take care of her. They said the three were to go to another gypsy camp some twenty or thirty miles away. But at that camp it was said that they knew nothing about the old hag and her followers.”
“Were the two gypsies, Bopeppo and Vazala, the two with whom you had trouble about the land?” questioned Roger.
“Yes, they were the leaders in the quarrel,” answered Dunston Porter. “Bopeppo was particularly furious, and one day threatened to strike Mr. Basswood. I stopped him, and told him if he didn’t behave himself I’d have him placed under 204arrest. Vazala was also very vindictive, he asserting, along with Mother Domoza, that they had the right to occupy the land as long as they pleased.”
“Then it is more than likely that Bopeppo and Vazala, assisted by Mother Domoza and perhaps by Nick Jasniff, are guilty of this kidnapping,” went on our hero.
“We had figured it out that way—of course leaving out Jasniff.”
“Have you any sample of the handwriting of Bopeppo or Vazala?” asked Roger. “If you have you might compare them with the note sent to Mr. Wadsworth.”
“We have managed to get one note written by Bopeppo, and we have two samples of Vazala’s signature. But neither of them seem to be in the handwriting used in the note,” answered Dave’s father.
“Then it would seem as if the note had been written by somebody else!” cried Dave. “How about Mother Domoza?”
“We don’t believe the old hag can read or write English.”
“I’d like to see the note,” said Roger. Thereupon the communication was brought forth and the two young civil engineers scanned it very closely.
“I wish I could remember Nick Jasniff’s handwriting, 205but I can’t,” said Roger. “How about it, Dave?”
“If my memory serves me, he wrote rather a heavy hand,” answered our hero. “But I am not willing to say whether this is in his style or not. This looks to me as if it was a disguised hand, for it is very irregular.”
“We all thought the handwriting was disguised,” answered Mr. Wadsworth. He heaved a deep sigh. “Too bad! All this talk doesn’t seem to get us anywhere.”
“Well, one thing is certain,” said Dave. “The girls got on board that train, and the train went to Boston, making all of its usual stops. In that case, they must have gotten off at one of the stop stations,—that is, unless the train made some other stops which were not scheduled.”
“We have found out that the train did make a number of other stops,” answered his father. “Shortly after it left Hemston they discovered a hot box, and they had to stop four times on the way to fix that—twice near some water tanks, and twice at some cross-road signal towers. As a consequence of the delay, the train was also held up at two little way stations to let two express trains pass, and did not get into Boston until nearly two hours behind its regular time.”
“Have you got a list of all those stopping places?” questioned Roger.
206“We have.”
“Then I know what I’m going to do,” cried Dave. “I’ll take the automobile and go along the line of the railroad and stop at every one of those places and make inquiries, and see if we can’t find out whether the girls left the train, or if they were met by the gypsies, or anybody else.”
“I’ve already been along the line, Dave,” answered his father. “Your uncle and I went over the route, not by automobile but by a way train, and we made inquiries at every station; but without the least success.”
“Yes, but the train couldn’t have stopped long enough for you to ask many questions,” put in Roger.
“That is true,” returned Dave’s parent slowly. “Probably you would have a better chance of getting some particulars if you went along the route in the automobile. Of course it would take considerable time—several days in fact—to follow the route in that manner all the way into Boston.”
“It’s the only thing I can think of to do,” answered Dave. “And it will be much better than sitting here and doing nothing.”
“Right you are!” cried Roger. “I’m willing to start this minute if you say so,” and he jumped to his feet.
“I don’t think you can do much to-day,—it is too late,” answered Mr. Wadsworth. “But you 207might get ready for a start early to-morrow morning,” and he looked rather hopefully at the two young civil engineers.
“We’ll do it!” answered Dave.
After that the discussion became general, and our hero and his chum got all the particulars possible concerning the stops the train upon which Jessie and Laura had taken passage had made on its trip to the Hub. They put all these names and locations down on a sort of map that they drew up, and then consulted an automobile Blue-Book, so that they might get familiar with the roads to be taken on their tour.
“This is certainly going to be some search, Dave,” remarked Roger, after the conference had come to an end and the two chums had gone up-stairs to fix up for dinner.
“I know it, Roger. It will probably take us several days, and maybe a week. But I won’t mind that, and neither will you, if only we learn something of advantage.”
It was a quiet party that sat down to the table that evening in the large dining room of the Wadsworth mansion. In a voice that trembled more than usual with emotion, old Professor Potts asked a blessing on the meal, and the repast was well on its way before anyone felt like talking. Then Roger questioned Mr. Wadsworth concerning the automobile to be taken for the trip.
208“I think you had better take the four-passenger car,” announced the jewelry manufacturer. “That will leave us the large car in case we need it. The smaller car is in just as good a condition and is just as speedy.”
“We’ll look over the car as soon as we have finished eating,” said Dave. “I want everything to be in the best of order, so that we shall not be delayed by any breakdown. Of course, we’ll carry along an extra shoe or two, and three or four inner tubes.”
The two chums had already decided on what they were to wear on the trip and what to take along in the way of extra clothing. They spent the entire evening in going over the four-passenger car, and, with the aid of the Wadsworth chauffeur, put the machine in the best possible order, and then filled it up with oil and gasoline.
“Oh, boys, you’ll do your best to find them?” said Mrs. Wadsworth, when they came in rather late and were ready to retire.
“You can rest assured of that, Mrs. Wadsworth,” answered Dave.
“We won’t give up until we have found them, or found out something about them,” broke in Roger. And then the lady kissed each of them affectionately. The strain had been terrible, and she looked ten years older than usual.
Dave and Roger had expected that no one 209would be around when they were ready to depart in the morning, for it was but a little after sunrise. But in this they were mistaken. Both Dave’s father and his Uncle Dunston had come down to see them off.
“I want to caution you about one thing,” said Dave’s parent. “You take care of yourselves, and if you do chance to run into those gypsies, or anybody else who has any connection with this crime, do your best to keep out of trouble.”
“We’ll be on our guard, Dad, don’t fear,” answered the son.
“Of course you are armed?” questioned Dunston Porter.
“Yes, we’ve each got a pistol, and Dave’s shotgun is under the back seat,” answered Roger. “You see, we weren’t going to take any chances,” and he smiled grimly.
“If you discover anything at all, send us word at once,” went on Dave’s father. “Use the telegraph or the telephone—whichever is handiest.”
“You can depend on it we will,” said Dave.
“And don’t forget that we want to hear from you folks here in Crumville if you hear anything,” added Roger. “You can send a message to any of the railroad stations along the line. We’ll stop at each station and ask for messages.”
Dave was at the wheel of the car, with Roger alongside of him. In the back the two had their 210suit-cases, and also a number of wraps and a hamper filled with lunch, for there was no telling where they could stop along the road for something to eat.
With scarcely an effort, the touring-car rolled away from the Wadsworth mansion, the men left behind waving their hands to the two on board. They waved in return, and a moment later the machine left the grounds, headed for the Crumville railroad station. This was soon passed, and they took the highway leading to the next station on the line; and thus the great search was begun.
The first place they reached was a small way-station, and they soon learned that the particular train Laura and Jessie had taken had not stopped there for a month or more. The station master had, however, heard about the kidnapping, and was anxious to hear more. But Dave and Roger did not waste time on him.
In the course of the next couple of hours, they stopped at six more stations, and made various inquiries. The train had stopped at just one of these places, but the station agent was positive that only two of the local residents had gotten on board, and no one but a drummer from the city had alighted.
The way to the next station was up a long hill, and near the top Dave had to bring the car to a sudden halt. The regular road was being repaired, 211and a sign was up showing where a detour might be made.
“That side-road doesn’t look very inviting,” was our hero’s comment, as he surveyed it.
“Oh, it must be all right,” answered Roger. “If it were not, they wouldn’t have that sign up.”
They proceeded on their way, and soon found the side road both rough and uncertain. They had some difficulty in getting to the bottom of the hill, and here they had to make a sharp turn to the left in an endeavor to get back to the main highway.
“Look out for the puddles, Dave!” cried the senator’s son, as they splashed into one pool of water.
Dave did what he could to keep out of the next puddle, and in doing this ran pretty well off to one side of the roadway. The next instant he found himself in mud almost up to the hubs, and here the car threatened to come to a standstill. He immediately threw the gear into second, and then into low, and thus they chugged on for a distance of ten or twelve feet farther. Then the car came to a sudden standstill.
“Stuck?” remarked Roger laconically.
“So it would seem,” answered Dave.
Twice Dave tried to back the car and then go ahead, but without avail. The machine settled down still farther in the mud of the road, and there it stuck.
“Now what are we going to do?” demanded the senator’s son, impatiently.
“I don’t know, Roger,” was the slow reply. “We’ve got to do something—we can’t stay in this mud-puddle all day.”
“It’s an outrage that they marked this road for a detour,” continued Roger. “Why, a team of horses would have all they could do to get through such a spot as this!”
“I guess I’ll have to get out for help,” said Dave. “Too bad! To think of getting stuck inside of three hours after leaving home!” and he made a grimace.
There was no help for it, and, reaching over into the tonneau of the car, Dave got out a pair of rubbers and put them on; and Roger did the same. Then both leaped out of the car and made their way to where the footing was fairly firm.
213“The road seems to be pretty good farther on,” announced our hero, after an examination. “But I’m afraid we’ll have to get somebody with a team of horses or oxen to pull us out of that hole. The car will never do it under its own power.”
They walked on, and presently came in sight of a farm nestling in a small valley beyond the hill. They walked up to this, and found a farmer in the barnyard, cleaning the mud from one of his horses.
“Well, gentlemen, what can I do for you?” hailed the man, as they walked up.
“I guess we got here just in time,” returned Dave. “There’s no use in finishing that cleaning until you’ve done a little job for us.”
“Eh? What’s that?” demanded the farmer curiously.
The chums explained the situation, and the farmer, whose name was Rawson, readily agreed to take two of his horses and the necessary tackle and assist them in getting the automobile out of the mud. In less than ten minutes the three were on their way to where the car was stalled. Mr. Rawson went to work quickly and with a precision that showed he knew exactly what he was doing.
“As soon as I give the word, you turn on your power and throw her into low gear,” he said. “I think we’ll have you out of this in a jiffy.”
And so it proved, the car coming up from the mud by the combined power of itself and the horses 214with hardly an effort. Then the team was unhooked, and Dave ran the car along the highway to where the farmer said farther traveling would be perfectly safe.
“By the way, we are on a rather peculiar errand around here,” said Dave, after he had settled for the farmer’s services. “May I ask if you have seen any gypsies in this vicinity during the last couple of weeks?”
“I don’t know about their being gypsies,” answered Mr. Rawson. “I had some trouble with a couple of tramps who robbed my chicken-coop about ten days or two weeks ago. I found they had been camping out in one of our sheds down in the woods. They wore bandana neckerchiefs and bright-colored vests.”
“That sounds as if they were gypsies! What became of them?”
“I can’t tell you about that. You see, one night we lost two of the chickens, and so I set a watch, and the next night I saw these two fellows sneaking up toward the house. I had my shotgun, and asked them what they wanted, and both of them dived out of sight behind some bushes and then ran for the woods. I followed them as far as the shed, and after that I lost track of them, and I’ve never seen them since. The next day I went down to the shed, thinking they might be hanging around 215somewhere, and there I saw they had been camping out in the shed, and saw where they had cooked the chickens and eaten them.”
“That sounds pretty interesting,” said Dave. “But I hardly think those fellows could have been the men we are looking for. The gypsies we are trying to spot must have had some money, and I don’t think they would camp out in that shed you mention. However, I’m going to remember it,” he added.
The chums questioned the farmer further, but got very little satisfaction. Then the journey in the automobile was resumed.
“What makes you think those fellows could not have been Bopeppo and Vazala?” questioned Roger, when they were once again speeding along the highway.
“I think this kidnapping was conducted in a much more high-toned fashion—if you can call it that, Roger. Those gypsies who used to camp on the outskirts of Crumville were far from poor. In fact, I have an idea that old Mother Domoza is really wealthy.”
“What! Wealthy, and live like that?”
“Exactly. I think she’s a first-class miser. A good many of the gypsies are—especially the older ones. They pretend to be very poor, but they own all sorts of jewelry, precious stones, and, 216very often, quantities of gold coin. They won’t trust the banks, but carry the stuff around their person, or else bury it somewhere.”
“But these fellows might have been frightened over something, and gone into hiding on that account,” suggested Roger.
“That may be—and I don’t intend to forget what Mr. Rawson said,” answered Dave. “It’s also possible that those two fellows may have been just hangers-on, who helped Bopeppo, Vazala and Mother Domoza, and maybe Nick Jasniff, to commit the crime.”
By noon the chums had stopped at one more way station, and also at one of the water tanks near where the hot box on the train had been discovered. They went up and interviewed the man in charge of the tank, but he could give them no satisfaction.
“I can’t tell you who left the train or who got on board,” he said. “I went down to look at the hot box along with the engineer, and I helped him get some water, and I didn’t pay much attention to anything else.”
“Have you seen any fellows around here who look like gypsies?” questioned Dave.
“Yes. I saw a couple of that class of men walking up the track either the day before that train came along or the day after. I’ve been trying to make up my mind which day it was since I 217read about this kidnapping, but I can’t say for sure.”
Leaving the vicinity of the water tank, the chums continued along the highway which ran within sight of the railroad. Reaching a convenient spot in the shade of a big tree, and where there was a spring and a watering trough, they came to a halt and there enjoyed a portion of the lunch they had brought along, washing it down with a drink of pure, cold water.
“Well, we haven’t learned anything yet that is worth while,” remarked Roger, during the course of the meal.
“I didn’t expect it was going to be any easy kind of a job,” Dave replied. “Even if we get the slightest kind of clue to this mystery, Roger, we can think ourselves lucky.”
“Oh, I know that.”
During the afternoon they stopped at five other places, putting to the people they met the questions which they had been asking all along the line. In every instance, however, no one could give them any information, although most of the men and women were very anxious to learn if anything had been heard of the missing girls.
“I hope those kidnappers are caught,” said one of the men at the last station at which they stopped. “They are not fit to be at large.”
“They ought to be hung!” declared his wife 218emphatically. “Why, since I heard about the disappearance of those two girls, I haven’t dared to let my little girl and boy leave the house! It’s terrible! I do so hope they catch those rascals and punish them well!”
Evening found the chums at the town of Chesleyville, and here, as there was a fairly good hotel, they resolved to remain for the night. They drove around to the hotel and left the car in the garage attached to the hostelry, and then made arrangements for a room and meals. They had supper, and then Dave suggested that they take a walk down to the railroad station and in the vicinity of the freight yard.
“I don’t know whether we’ll learn anything or not, but we can’t afford to miss any chances,” was the way he expressed himself.
“That’s the talk!” cried Roger. “We don’t want anything to get away from us.”
They had quite a talk with the station agent and a number of others, including a young fellow who had charge of a news-stand.
“I’ve seen pictures of those girls who were kidnapped,” declared the youth, “and unless I am greatly mistaken, one of them—the taller of the two—bought a magazine and a weekly from me.”
This was interesting information, and the two lost no time in questioning the youth closely. He 219described the taller of the two girls, telling how she had been dressed and what sort of hat she had worn. The description of the suit and the head covering tallied closely with what Mrs. Wadsworth had said Laura had worn.
“What did she buy—do you remember that?” questioned Roger. And thereupon the news vendor mentioned a popular monthly magazine and an equally popular weekly.
“And you saw the other girl?” asked Dave.
“Yes, at the car window. She didn’t get out, but the other girl went to the open window and asked her what she wanted, and then she came back and got the weekly. That was after she had bought the magazine. She dropped her hand-bag and had to turn around to pick it up, and that’s how I came to notice her.”
This was all the youth could tell, but it was something, and the chums returned to the hotel in a thoughtful mood.
“If that really was Laura, and if the girl in the car was Jessie, then that proves one thing,” remarked Dave. “They weren’t kidnapped anywhere between here and Crumville.”
“And that means that it did happen somewhere between here and Boston,” added Roger. “But, gracious, Dave! it’s a long way from here to that city!”
Neither of the young civil engineers felt in the 220humor for retiring early, so they passed into the reading-room of the hotel, to glance at one or two of the newspapers. Dave was perusing an article in reference to the disappearance of the girls, and Roger was deep in some news from Washington which affected his father, when both were startled by an exclamation made by some one who had stepped from the outside to a broad window which opened upon a veranda of the hotel.
“Who was that?” asked Roger, as he looked up just in time to see somebody disappearing from view.
“I don’t know, I’m sure,” answered Dave.
Struck by the peculiarity of the movement which had taken place, both walked over to the window and looked outside. Here all was in semi-darkness, the only light coming from the hotel and a small street lamp some distance away. They saw the figure of a young man hurrying down the street, and as the individual passed under the street light, he pulled up the collar of his coat and pulled down the soft hat he wore.
“Whoever he was, he got out in a mighty hurry,” was Roger’s comment.
To this Dave did not answer. He was wondering who the strange individual could be.
“Did you see his face at all, Dave?”
“No. Did you?”
“Not at all. He left the window so quickly I didn’t catch more than a glance of the side of his body.”
“He certainly left in a mighty hurry,” mused our hero.
“Dave, do you imagine it might have been Nick Jasniff?” asked the senator’s son excitedly.
“I thought of that, Roger. As the fellow passed under that lamp-post his form looked something like Jasniff’s. But that is rather a wild guess—a good many fellows might possess his general make-up.”
The two chums went back to their newspapers, and half an hour later they retired to their room. Both arose early, thinking to look over the automobile before breakfast, so that they might be ready to start off immediately after eating. When they reached the hotel garage, they found the colored man who was in charge very much excited.
222“You gemmen didn’t send nobody down here to get your car, did you?” he questioned quickly.
“We certainly did not!” cried Dave.
“Has any one been here to get the car?” questioned the senator’s son.
“A young fellow was here at your machine,” answered the colored man. “I jest stepped over to the hotel to ask the clerk to order some more gasoline, we runnin’ short. When I came back the fellow was at your car. I thought at first it was one of you gemmen, but as soon as I called to him he jumped from the car and went out the back door.”
“How long ago was this?” burst out Dave.
“Not over five minutes ago, boss. I called to the fellow and ran after him, but he jumped over the back fence and got away.”
“Was he a tall young fellow with a soft hat?” queried Roger.
“He was.”
“He must have been the same chap who looked in at the hotel window!” went on the senator’s son to Dave. “Now, what do you make of that?”
“I make of it that he is trying to do us some injury,” answered Dave.
“Do you really think it could be Nick Jasniff?”
“I am sure I don’t know. If it was Jasniff, how in the world did he get up here in this town?”
223“Perhaps he has been following us.”
“But how could he do that unless he had an automobile or a motorcycle, or something like that?”
“I am sure I can’t answer that question.” Roger turned to the garage man. “Did you know the fellow at all?”
“No, boss; he was a stranger to me.”
“Have you ever seen him before?” asked Dave.
“Oh, I ain’t exactly sure of that, boss—so many men comin’ and goin’ all the time.”
“Let us see if he did any injury to the car,” suggested Roger.
The automobile was run out into the yard of the hotel, and there the young men went over the machine carefully. Nothing seemed to be amiss, and the things in the tonneau had been left undisturbed.
“I guess he didn’t have time enough to do anything,” said Dave. “I think he had been watching this man,” indicating the colored individual, “and as soon as he went into the hotel, the rascal sneaked into the garage intending to get the car out. Maybe he was nothing more than an auto thief who watched us come to the hotel and thought he saw a chance to get away with our car.”
“If he’s an auto thief, I wish I had caught 224him,” was the comment of the colored man.
“I think I’ll buy a lock for the car,” announced Dave. “I saw an automobile place down the street. We can stop there before we leave town.”
This was done; and the chums purchased a lock which could be placed on the gear shift, so that it would be impossible to start the car without unlocking the device or smashing it.
“By the turn of affairs, we’ve got to watch out for more than one kind of enemy,” announced Roger, when the search for clues to the mysterious disappearance of the two girls had again been resumed.
“I’ve got a new idea, Roger,” answered our hero slowly. “I may be mistaken, but somehow it strikes me that it would pay us to take a look around Chesleyville before we go farther. If that fellow was connected in any way with the kidnapping of Jessie and Laura, the girls may be held somewhere in this neighborhood.”
“That idea strikes me as a good one, Dave. Let us make a number of inquiries and find out if the gypsies were in this vicinity.”
The plan was carried out, the two youths spending the best part of a couple of hours both in the town and on the outskirts. The search in that vicinity, however, proved fruitless, and once again they set off on their trip along the line of the railroad.
225Before lunch time they had stopped at three more places, and at one of them gained the information that several gypsies had been seen in that vicinity about two weeks before. They had been men, and where they had gone nobody seemed to know.
Late that afternoon found the chums at a place known as Fallon’s Crossing. Here a small sideline crossed the main railroad, and here were located a switch shanty and a small freight yard. At this point it was said that the train which had carried Laura and Jessie had stopped for fully fifteen minutes, to let the hot box cool off and also to allow another train to pass. Just beyond Fallon’s Crossing was the thriving town of Crandall, at which the train was scheduled to make a regular stop.
The switchman at the shanty could tell them nothing more than that the train had stopped. He said a number of people had gotten off to pick some wildflowers that grew by the roadside, and then re-entered the train. Who the people had been, he could not remember.
There was a man hanging around the freight yard who had also been present on the day when the train had stopped, and he vouchsafed the information that when the people on the train had learned that the stop would be for some time a number had tramped up the tracks to the town, to 226get on again when the train arrived at the regular station.
“There were at least eight or ten people did that,” said the freight-yard man; “but who they were I do not know.”
“Did you see any gypsies around?” questioned Dave.
“No. We haven’t had a gypsy around here in years. We don’t stand for gypsies any more than we do for tramps.”
When the two chums returned to their automobile they saw nearby a middle-aged man with a motorcycle. He was bending over the machine, trying to fix something, and as they came closer he hailed them.
“Is that your car over there?” he questioned.
“It is,” answered Dave.
“Then, would you mind lending me a small wrench for a few minutes? I just broke mine.”
“Certainly,” answered Dave.
The tool was brought forth, and the man at once set to work to use it. While the two chums looked on the man spoke about the trials and tribulations he had had with the motorcycle and of a trip he had made to that vicinity some time before. Being questioned, it developed that he had been on hand when the train containing the two girls had stopped there.
“I was quite interested in that hot box they 227had, and I was talking to the fireman about it,” he said.
“Did you see any of the folks leave the train?” questioned Dave. “We are very anxious to find out.” And then, seeing the look of surprise on the man’s face, he gave his reasons.
“I’ve read about that kidnapping case!” cried the man. “Yes, I saw at least a dozen people leave the cars and walk off in the direction of the town. Some of them said they belonged in the town, and others asked the conductor if they couldn’t go up to the railroad station and get aboard again when the train came along.”
“Did you notice those two young ladies?” questioned Roger eagerly, and gave a description of Laura and Jessie.
“I think I did see them,” answered the man slowly. “I remember seeing the beaded hand-bag one of the young ladies carried, and I remember she wore a hat with a blue pompon.”
“It must have been Jessie and Laura!” exclaimed Dave. “Have you any idea where they went?”
“The whole crowd walked up the railroad tracks in the direction of the town. Whether they went to the station or not, I, of course, don’t know. I hung around here watching them fix that hot box, and then I jumped on my motorcycle and rode off in the opposite direction.”
228This was all the man on the motorcycle could tell; and as he was in a hurry to go on they did not detain him further.
“This looks like a clue,” was Roger’s comment, as they re-entered the automobile and moved on their way. “I guess the best thing we can do, Dave, is to make some inquiries around Crandall.”
“Exactly, Roger! I think we are on the trail at last;” and Dave’s face showed his pleasure.
The road ran close to the tracks, and it took them but a few minutes to reach the town. Here they continued their inquiries in and around the station, but without gaining any additional information.
“It is too bad,” said Roger disappointedly. “I thought sure we would learn something more.”
“We’ve got to do it, Roger!” cried Dave. “I am sure we are on the right track. Those girls came here, and, so far as we can learn, nobody saw them get on the train again. If they didn’t get on the train, where did they go?”
“I’d give a good deal to have that question answered,” returned the senator’s son. He heaved a sigh. “Oh, we’ve got to do something!”
They continued their inquiries, and presently found themselves talking to a lame boy in charge of a small fruit-stand, where they made a purchase.
“Yes, I was here the day the train was held 229up down at the Crossing, and some of the folks walked up to the station,” said the lame boy. “There were a couple of drummers with their cases, and a man and his wife and two or three children, and then there were a couple of other men,—and three or four young ladies. Some of ’em went right over to the station, and the rest of ’em went uptown.”
“Did you notice two young ladies in particular?” questioned Dave; and then he told how Laura and Jessie had been dressed, and of the beaded handbags they carried, and added that they also had a magazine or two.
“Oh, yes, I remember them!” cried the young fruit-stand keeper. “They stopped here and got some grapes and a couple of peaches.”
“And did they get on the train again when it came along?”
“I didn’t see ’em. They walked uptown. One of them asked me where the Bliss House was.”
“The Bliss House?” queried Roger.
“Yes, sir. That’s our hotel,” explained the boy.
“And they went there?” questioned Dave.
“I think they did.”
Dave and Roger talked to the fruit-stand boy a few minutes longer, and then jumped into the automobile and rode up to the Bliss House, an old-fashioned hotel, standing on a corner and surrounded by a number of stately elm trees.
“I can’t understand this at all, Dave,” said Roger, while on the way. “What would take those girls uptown? They must have known that the train might come along at any minute, and then, if they weren’t on hand to get aboard, they’d be left.”
“It certainly is a mystery, Roger. All we can do is to follow up this clue and see where it leads to. From what that man who had the motorcycle said, and from what the lame boy told us, it is pretty certain that Jessie and Laura got off the train at the Crossing and did not get on again at this railroad station. And if they came up to the hotel here, they must have had some purpose in so doing.”
The country hotel was not a very busy place, 231and the chums found the clerk quite willing to give them all the information he could. He did not, however, remember the girls; nor did the proprietor of the place, who came up to see what was wanted, remember them.
“I don’t think they came here. Or, if they did, they didn’t come to the office,” said the clerk. “I was here all day, and I know.”
“Did you have any strangers around the place that day, so far as you can remember?” questioned Dave.
“None to stay. We had half a dozen drummers; but I know all of them, for they have been coming and going for a number of years.”
“Wait a minute! Come to think of it, there was something else happened that day which I thought was rather queer,” cried the hotel proprietor suddenly. He was a bald-headed man, and he began to scratch his hairless head vigorously. “Seems to me it was just about half an hour or so before that train came in, too,” he added, nodding his head emphatically.
“What was the thing that happened?” questioned Roger quickly.
“There was a big touring-car came down the Kapton road yonder. A man dressed as a chauffeur was driving the machine. He stopped his car and asked for directions, and then the car swung around and came to a stop down there 232near our stables. I sent the boy out to see if anything was wanted—the stable man being off on an errand—and the boy came back and said they wanted to know when that train would get in. Then the car moved over to the other side of the street and stood there for five or ten minutes. The chauffeur turned around in his seat to talk very earnestly to a couple who were in the car. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they all seemed to be rather excited. Then the car went back down the road, and that was the last I saw of it.”
“It wasn’t a car that belonged around here, so far as you knew?” asked our hero.
“No, it didn’t belong around here. It was a great big heavy enclosed affair, and looked as if it had seen pretty rough usage—one of the mud-guards being quite battered. That was one reason why I took notice of it—I thought maybe they had been in some sort of an accident, especially when the chauffeur and the people in the car got to talking so excitedly among themselves.”
“Did you notice what kind of people they were?” asked Dave.
“I think the chauffeur was a foreigner. He had heavy dark hair and a small dark mustache. He wore a regular cap and goggles, and also a dust-coat.”
233“Who were the people in the car?” questioned the senator’s son.
“There were a man and a woman, and I should say they were rather elderly. The woman had a thick veil over her face, and the man wore a dust-coat buttoned up around his throat and a cap pulled far down over his forehead, and I think he had on smoked glasses. I thought the whole bunch might be foreigners, and that was another reason why I noticed them.”
“This is certainly interesting, but I don’t see how it connects up with the disappearance of the girls,” was Dave’s comment.
“Those gypsies all look like foreigners,” said Roger.
“Yes. But I don’t think any of them knows how to run an auto. They always use horses.”
“Oh, well, they might be getting up-to-date.”
Thinking that the incident of the strange touring-car might be worth following up, Dave and Roger left the hotel and ran their own automobile a distance along the Kapton road. From the hotel proprietor they had learned that this road led to the small village of Kapton two miles distant.
“This is a good deal like looking for a needle in a haystack,” was Roger’s comment.
“True, Roger. But if you took the haystack and went over it a wisp at a time, sooner or later you’d come on the needle,” answered Dave. 234“And that is what I propose to do in this case—I’m going to follow up every possible clue until we strike something.”
On the outskirts of Crandall they came upon a little country home where several children were enjoying themselves at a swing in the open dooryard. Here Dave stopped the car.
“I suppose you play here nearly every day,” he said to the oldest of the girls, a bright miss of nine or ten years of age.
“Oh, yes; whenever the weather is good.”
“And we have lots of fun,” broke in another of the happy group.
“We are trying to find out something about a big automobile that came along here about ten days ago,” said Roger. “It was a great big enclosed car, and one of the mud-guards was smashed.”
“Oh, I remember that car, Nellie!” cried one of the girls. “Don’t you remember? It’s the one that stopped over by Radley’s orchard.”
“Indeed I do remember!” answered Nellie, with a toss of her head. “Didn’t they come close to running over Rover?”
“What did the car stop at the orchard for?” asked Dave.
“I don’t know exactly. I think they had to fix something on it. Anyway, the man opened the tin door on the top of the front,” answered the 235girl. “That was broken, too, just like the tin thing over the wheels.”
“They didn’t stop for that,” said another one of the girls. “They stopped to send Billy Barton on an errand down to the hotel.”
This announcement on the part of the little girl filled our hero and Roger with increased interest.
“Where is this Billy Barton, and what did he go to the hotel for?” questioned Dave.
“The man who ran the car gave Billy a note to give to two young ladies who, he said, would either be at the hotel or would soon get there. Billy said he saw two young ladies just going into the hotel, and asked them if they were the people he was looking for, and they said ‘Yes’; and so Billy gave them the note. The man gave him ten cents for doing it. I wish I could deliver a note and get ten cents for it,” continued the little girl wistfully.
“Well, you’re going to get ten cents for telling me all about those people in the automobile,” said our hero, and produced several dimes which he distributed among those present, much to their astonishment and gratification.
“But that wasn’t all of it, mister,” said one of the girls. “Those young ladies came up here and got into the automobile and rode away.”
“Got into the automobile and rode away!” burst out Dave and Roger simultaneously.
236“Yes, sir.”
“I saw them, too!” said the smallest of the girls, who had thus far spoken but little. “They didn’t get in very easy though!”
“They didn’t get in easy?” queried our hero. “What do you mean?”
“Why the driver of the automobile and the man who was inside got out and had to shove them both in. I thought they was fooling, but they was awful rough about it.”
“Did the girls scream, or anything like that?” asked Roger.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t near enough to hear.”
“And then, when the girls were in the auto, what did the others do?”
“Oh, they drove away just as fast as they could. They drove so fast that they nearly ran over old Mr. Merrick.”
“Who is he?”
“Why, don’t you know old Mr. Merrick?” asked the little girl. “He lives ’way up the road—up there where you see that little white house. He was standing out in the middle of the road when the automobile rushed past him so fast that he could hardly jump out of the way. He was awful angry. He told my papa that he thought the man ought to be arrested.”
“If only they had arrested them!” murmured Dave.
237“And that was the last you saw of that automobile?” asked Roger.
“Yes, sir,” came from several of the girls at once.
“It hasn’t been this way again?”
“No, sir.”
After that the two chums questioned the little girls closer about the general appearance of the car, and learned that the turnout not only had one of the mud-guards badly bent, but that the side of the car was scratched in several places and that the wind-shield was cracked.
“That’s something to go by, but not much,” remarked our hero. “One thing is certain, we are on the right trail at last. For some reason that isn’t at all clear, Jessie and Laura left that train at the Crossing, walked up to the railroad station here in town, and then to the hotel. There they were met by the small boy with the note, and as a result of receiving that note they came out here and either got into that automobile willingly or were forced into it.”
“But where did the auto go to, Dave?”
“That remains to be found out.”
“Will you let the authorities know about this?”
“At once! The more people we get on this trail, the quicker we’ll be able to run those rascals down.”
Dave and Roger lost no time in getting back to the business section of Crandall, and there they inquired their way to police headquarters. They found the chief in charge, and introducing themselves asked him if he knew about the disappearance of the girls.
“Oh, yes, I know all about that,” answered the chief. “We’ve been on the watch for them, but so far nothing has come to light.”
Thereupon Dave and Roger related what they had heard from the lame boy and those at the Bliss House, and then what the little girls had told.
“This is mighty interesting,” mused the chief. “But I don’t see what I can do except to have my men on the watch for that automobile. If it turns up, do you want the party running it held?”
“I certainly do!” answered Dave. “Or better yet, if you get the chance, have the auto followed and see where it goes to—especially if it goes down the Kapton road.”
“All right, I’ll do that.”
239From the police station the two young civil engineers hurried down to the telegraph office, and there sent a long message to the folks in Crumville. No message had arrived for them, so they took it for granted that no news had come in at the Wadsworth place since their departure.
“And now what’s the next move?” queried Roger, who in this affair looked to Dave as the leader.
“I think we had better travel along that Kapton road and see if we can find out anything more about that automobile and those in it,” was the reply. “There is certainly no use in our continuing the trip along the railroad.”
It was growing dark when Crandall was left behind, and they journeyed forward on the Kapton road slowly, keeping their eyes open for anything that might suggest a further solution of the mystery they were endeavoring to unravel.
“We might stop and question that Mr. Merrick the little girls mentioned,” suggested Roger.
“Yes, we can do that, although I doubt if the old man can add much to what we already know.”
They found Mr. Aaron Merrick a very fussy old individual and hard to talk to. He remembered the incident of the automobile very well, and was highly indignant, but he could not tell anything about who had been driving the car or who was inside.
240“They went by me jest like a comet!” he explained. “I had to jump fer my life, or I’d been run over sure! All them pesky rascals ought to be put in prison. I don’t believe in autermobiles, anyway,” and he looked rather indignantly at the two chums.
“Well, we are after the fellow who ran that auto,” answered Roger. “And if we catch him he’ll go to prison fast enough.”
“What’s the matter? Did he steal that there car?”
“He did worse,” answered the senator’s son. “But we haven’t got time to talk about that now,” he added, and hurried away, followed by our hero. Mr. Merrick came after them, anxious to know what might be wrong, but they did not enlighten him.
Half an hour later found the machine rolling into the little village of Kapton. They had stopped twice on the way, but had learned nothing more concerning the big touring car with the battered mud-guard and the cracked wind-shield.
“Do you think we ought to stay here all night?” questioned Roger.
“That will depend on whether we can get accommodation or not,” returned Dave. “Anyhow, we want to make some inquiries before we leave this place.”
241They soon learned that Kapton boasted of nothing in the way of a hotel or boarding-house.
“But you can get pretty good accommodations at the Bliss House in Crandall,” said the storekeeper, who gave them the information. “Or else you can go to the American House at Frytown.”
“Is that in the opposite direction to Crandall?” questioned Dave.
“Yes, sir; it’s on the same road that you came up on. The road runs right through Frytown to Cullomburg, and it’s a pretty fair road all the way.”
“Then I guess we’ll go on to Frytown. By the way, can you give us any information about a big touring-car that went through here about ten days ago—a touring-car that had a battered mud-guard and a cracked wind-shield and was driven by a fellow who looked like a foreigner—a chap with a small black mustache?”
“Why, yes, I saw that car!” cried the storekeeper. “The fellow who ran it came in here and bought a lot of groceries.”
“He did!” exclaimed both of the chums in surprise.
“Yes, sir.”
“When was this?”
“Let me see——” The storekeeper rubbed 242his chin reflectively. “I guess it was just about a week ago to-day. The fellow came in and said he was in a good deal of a hurry, so I and my clerk hustled to get the order out for him. We packed it in a big box, and put the box in the tonneau of the car. But what about this—is the man some friend of yours?”
“Hardly a friend,” answered Dave quickly! “But we are very anxious to locate him. Have you any idea where he came from or where he went?”
“All I can say is that he came into this place from Frytown way, and he turned around after he had the stuff and went back the way he came.”
“Did he give you any names, or say where he was from?” questioned Roger.
“No, he didn’t say anything excepting that he was buying the things for some folks who were sick in a camp and couldn’t get away. I asked him one or two questions, but he acted as if he didn’t want to answer them, and so I didn’t say too much. You see, he paid spot cash for what he got, so it was none of my business,” added the storekeeper.
“Do you remember the things he got?” questioned Dave. And then, as the storekeeper showed that he was becoming suspicious, our hero added: “I may be perfectly frank with you, Mr. Linton. We suspect that the man who is 243running that automobile is a fellow who escaped some time ago from prison. In fact, we are not sure that he owns the automobile he is running, and it is possible that he may be mixed up in the abduction of two young ladies. That is why we are so anxious to get on his trail.”
“You don’t say! Well, I’d want to get on the trail of a rascal like that myself. Yes, I think I can tell you pretty near everything the fellow bought.”
And thereupon the storekeeper enumerated a number of articles, including coffee, sugar, flour, butter, and a quantity of canned goods.
“And was that all?” asked Roger, as the storekeeper paused.
“No. After he had those goods, he asked about a good strong clothes-line, and then he bought a lock, some screws and nails, and a hammer and a screwdriver.”
“And was that all?”
“That’s all, so far as I can remember. Oh, no! he did buy some smoking tobacco and a couple of pipes and some packages of cigarettes.”
“And how did the fellow look? Can you describe him?”
“I can’t say much except that he was rather tall and thin and had, as you said, a little black mustache, and heavy black curly hair. His face was very dark, as if he had gotten well tanned. 244He kept on his automobile goggles, and had his cap pulled down well over his forehead, and his dust-coat was buttoned up tight around his neck.”
“You haven’t seen him since?”
“I think I saw the automobile going by the door late one evening a couple of nights ago, but I am not sure. You see, I am getting old, and my eyesight ain’t none too good,” concluded the storekeeper.
When Dave and Roger returned to the automobile and headed the car in the direction of Frytown, both were in a meditative mood.
“I think I can begin to figure this out, Roger,” said Dave slowly. “It looks to me as if Jessie and Laura were being held prisoners somewhere in this vicinity, and that that fellow who ran the car, whoever he is, came down here to buy supplies for the crowd.”
“Yes. And do you remember what the storekeeper said about the clothes-line and a lock and nails? More than likely they’ve got the poor girls tied fast in some room, and they have put a new lock on the door and nailed up the windows.”
“What you say would fit in very well with what the storekeeper told us. If that rascal came here to get his supplies, it would seem to indicate that the place where the girls are being kept prisoners must be somewhere in this vicinity.”
“Yes, unless they did not dare to go to any 245town that was closer by. For all we know, he may have come from twenty or thirty miles away—or even farther than that.”
“Well, we’re on the right trail, anyway, and that’s something,” returned Dave hopefully. Then he gave a sudden exclamation. “My gracious! Why didn’t I think of that before?”
“Think of what, Dave?”
“Don’t you remember what the storekeeper said about that fellow purchasing some cigarettes?”
“What of it?”
“Why, just this: One of the things that fastened the crime on Jasniff and Merwell at the time Mr. Wadsworth’s jewelry factory was robbed was the fact that both of those rascals were inveterate cigarette smokers, and smoked a certain brand of Turkish cigarettes—a kind that had a peculiar gold and blue band around the box. I’m going back and ask that storekeeper what kind of cigarettes that fellow got.”
And so speaking Dave made a sharp turn and brought the car around, and in a moment more was on his way back to the store.
“Back again, eh?” said the proprietor. “You weren’t gone very long.”
“I believe, Mr. Linton, you said that fellow we were talking about purchased some tobacco and cigarettes?”
246“So I did.”
“Can you remember anything about the cigarettes? Please try to think exactly of what happened when he asked for them.”
“Hum! Let me see!” The storekeeper meditated for a moment. “Oh, yes, I remember now! He asked me if I had any Doradas or Mimoras, or any other Turkish cigarettes. I told him No, we had very little call for anything like that. So then he took half a dozen packages of these,” and the storekeeper pointed to some cigarettes in his showcase.
“Thank you. That’s all I wanted to know,” answered Dave. “Good night”; and he hurried away to the automobile with Roger following.
“Well, what do you make of this?” questioned the senator’s son quickly.
“I think we have found another clue, Roger. That fellow asked for Doradas cigarettes. They are a Turkish brand, and come in a box having a blue and gold band around it—the same kind of cigarettes that Jasniff smoked when he and Merwell robbed Mr. Wadsworth’s safe.”