Part 12 (2/2)

Mile after mile he rode, getting the very best speed he could out of the machine. Somewhere ahead of him, he was sure, riding back toward London, was Graves. In this wild pursuit he was taking chances, of course. Graves might have turned off the road almost anywhere. But if he had done that, there was nothing to be done about it; that much was certain. He could only keep on with the pursuit, hoping that his quarry was following the straight road toward London. And, to be sure, there was every reason for him to hope just that.

By this time it was very late. No one was abroad; the countryside was asleep. Once or twice he did find someone in the streets of a village as he swept through; then he stopped, and asked if a man on another motorcycle had pa.s.sed ahead of him. Two or three times the yokel he questioned didn't know; twice, however, he did get a definite a.s.surance that Graves was ahead of him.

Somehow he never thought of the outrageously illegal speed he was making.

He knew the importance of his errand, and that, moreover, he was a menace to nothing but the sleep of those he disturbed. No one was abroad to get in his way, and he forgot utterly that there might be need for caution, until, as he went through a fair sized town, he suddenly saw three policemen, two of whom were also mounted on motorcycles, waiting for him.

They waved their arms, crying out to him to stop, and, seeing that he was trapped, he did stop.

”Let me by,” he cried, angrily. ”I'm on government service!”

”Another of them?” One of the policemen looked doubtfully at the rest. ”Too many of you telling that tale to-night. And the last one said there was a scorcher behind him. Have you got any papers? He had them!”

Harry groaned! So Graves had managed to strike at him, even when he was miles away. Evidently he, too, had been held up; evidently, also, he had used Harry's credentials to get out of the sc.r.a.pe speeding had put him in.

”No, I haven't any credentials,” he said, angrily. ”But you can see my uniform, can't you? I'm a Boy Scout, and we're all under government orders now, like soldiers or sailors.”

”That's too thin, my lad,” said the policeman who seemed to be recognized as the leader. ”Everyone we've caught for speeding too fast since the war began has blamed it on the war. We'll have to take you along, my boy. They telephoned to us from places you pa.s.sed--they said you were going so fast it was dangerous. And we saw you ourselves.”

In vain Harry pleaded. Now that he knew that Graves had used his credentials from Colonel Throckmorton, he decided that it would be foolish to claim his own ident.i.ty. Graves had a.s.sumed that, and he had had the practically conclusive advantage of striking the first blow. So Harry decided to submit to the inevitable with the best grace he could muster.

”All right,” he said. ”I'll go along with you, officer. But you'll be sorry before it's over!”

”Maybe, sir,” said the policeman. ”But orders is orders, sir, and I've got to obey them. Not that I likes running a young gentleman like yourself in.

But--”

”Oh, I know you're only doing your duty, as you see it, officer,” he said.

”Can't be helped--but I'm sorry. It's likely to cause a lot of trouble.”

So he surrendered. But, even while he was doing so, he was planning to escape from custody.

CHAPTER X

A GOOD WITNESS

d.i.c.k's surprise and concern when he found the cache empty and deserted, with papers and motorcycles alike gone, may be imagined. For a moment he thought he must be mistaken; that, after all, he had come to the wrong place. But a quick search of the ground with his flashlight showed him that he had come to the right spot. He could see the tracks made by the wheels of the machine; he could see, also, evidences of the brief struggle between Harry and Graves. For a moment his mystification continued. But then, with a low laugh, Jack Young emerged from the cover in which he had been hiding.

”h.e.l.lo, there!” he said. ”I say, are you d.i.c.k Mercer?”

”Yes!” gasped d.i.c.k. ”But how ever do you know? I never saw you before!”

”Well, you see me now,” said Jack. ”Harry Fleming told me to look for you here. He said you'd be along some time to-night, if you got away. And he was sure you could get away, too.”

”Harry!” said d.i.c.k, dazed. ”You've seen him? Where is he? Did he get away?

And what happened to the cycles and the papers we hid there? Why--”

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