Part 6 (1/2)

”I have it!” he declared. ”The carriage came from the village, and kept right on the other way. You're right, Ned. They didn't go back to town.

”Are you sure?”

”Of course. You can see for yourself; if the carriage had turned around the track would show, but it doesn't and, even if they turned on the gra.s.s, there'd be two lines of marks--one coming out here and one returning. As it is there is only a single set--just as if the carriage drove up here, took on its load, and continued on. This way, Ned.”

They hurried down the road, and soon came to a cl.u.s.ter of farm houses.

Inquiries there, however, failed to bring anything to light, for either the occupants of the house had failed to notice pa.s.sing vehicles, or there had been so many that any particular carriage was not recalled.

And there were now so many impressions in the soft dirt of the highway--so many wheel tracks and hoof imprints--that it was impossible to pick out those of the carriage with the cut rubber tire. ”Well, I guess it isn't of much use to go on any farther,” spoke Ned, when they had traveled several miles and had learned nothing.

”We'll try one more house, and then go back,” agreed Tom. ”We'll tell dad about what's happened, and see what he says.”

”Carriage?” repeated an old farmer to whom they next put the question.

”Wa'al, now, come t' think of it, I did see one drivin' along here early this morning. It had rubber tires on too, for I recollect remarkin' t' myself that it didn't make much noise. Had t' talk t'

myself,” he added in explanation, ”'cause n.o.body else in the family was up, 'ceptin' th' dog.”

”Did the carriage have some Russians in it?” asked Tom eagerly, ”and was one a big bearded man?”

”Wa'al, now you've got me,” admitted the farmer frankly. ”It was quite early you see, and I didn't take no particular notice. I got up early t' do my milkin' 'cause I have t' take it t' th' cheese factory. That's th' reason n.o.body was up but me. But I see this carriage comin' down th' road, and thinks I t' myself it was pretty middlin' early fer anybody t' be takin' a pleasure ride. I 'lowed it were a pleasure ride, 'cause it were one of them hacks that folks don't usually use 'ceptin'

fer a weddin', or a funeral, an' it wa'n't no funeral.”

”Then you can't tell us anything more except that it pa.s.sed?” asked Ned.

”No, I couldn't see inside, 'cause it was rather dark at that hour, and then, too, I noticed that they had th' window shades down.”

”That's suspicious!” exclaimed Tom. ”I believe they are the fellows we're after,” and, without giving any particulars he said that they were looking for a friend who might have been taken away against his will.

”Could you tell where they were going?” asked Tom, scarcely hoping to get an affirmative answer.

”Wa'al, th' man on th' seat pulled up when he see me,” spoke the farmer with exasperating slowness, ”an' asked me how far it was t' th'

Waterville station, an' I told him.”

”Why didn't you say so at first?” asked Tom quickly. ”Why didn't you tell us they were heading for the railroad?”

”You didn't ask me,” replied the farmer. ”What difference does it make.”

”Every minute counts!” exclaimed the young inventor. ”We want to keep right after those fellows. Maybe the agent can tell us where they bought tickets to, and we can trace them that way.

”Shouldn't wonder,” commented the farmer. ”There ain't many trains out from Waterville at that time of day, an' mighty few pa.s.sengers.

Shouldn't wonder but Jake Applesauer could put ye on th' trail.”

”Much obliged,” called Tom. ”Come on, Ned,” and he started back in the direction of the house where the kidnapping had taken place.

”That ain't th' way t' 'vaterville!” the farmer shouted after them.

”I know it, we're going to get our airs.h.i.+p,” answered Tom, and then he heard the farmer mutter.

”Plumb crazy! That's what they be! Plumb crazy! Going after their airs.h.i.+p! Shouldn't wonder but they was escaped lunatics, and the other fellers was keepers after 'em. Hu! Wa'al, I've got my work to do.