Part 43 (2/2)
”That ain't my business,” commenced the chauffeur, savagely. ”You let me go, or I'll----Oh!”
He stopped short and let out a yell of pain and fright. He had tried to push d.i.c.k out of his path. The oldest Rover boy had dropped the lantern and struck out fairly and squarely with his fist, and the blow had landed on the man's jaw, nearly taking him from his feet.
”Now behave yourself and come along!” cried d.i.c.k, and caught the man by the arm. ”Don't let him escape!” he cried, to his brothers. ”Use your sticks, and your pistols, too, if it is necessary.”
The boys closed in, and the sight of the sticks and the pistols frightened the chauffeur greatly. He saw that he was trapped, and that resistance might put him in a worse hole.
”I didn't do it!” he whined, as the boys hurried him back towards the automobile. ”I was hired for a certain job, that's all. The men said they had a right to carry the young ladies off--that one of 'em was the old man's stepdaughter, and that both of 'em had run away from a girls'
school and wouldn't learn their lessons.”
”And you mean to tell me that you believe such stuff!” snorted Tom.
”Well, that's what they told me,” answered the man doggedly. ”They hired the car first without telling me what sort of a job it was. Then they told me they wouldn't give me a cent if I didn't do what I was told to do. I'm a poor man, and----”
”You tell it well, but I don't believe a word of it,” interrupted d.i.c.k.
”You have committed a serious crime, and the only way in which you can help yourself at all is by helping us.”
”Will you let me go if I help you?” demanded the chauffeur, eagerly.
”We'll see about that later,” answered d.i.c.k, briefly. ”For the present we intend to keep you a prisoner.”
”A prisoner! You haven't any right----”
”We'll take the right.”
”That's the talk!” put in Tom.
By this time the party had reached the automobile. As d.i.c.k had surmised, several straps and ropes lay in the box under the back seat, and with these they bound the man's hands behind him. Once he started to resist, but when Tom raised his s.h.i.+ning pistol he wilted.
”Now you tell me where they took the young ladies,” said d.i.c.k, after the fellow had been strapped fast to his own automobile.
”They took 'em up to the house.”
”What house?”
”The old mansion back there on the hill.”
”Who was in the crowd?”
”The old man and the old lady, and the two young ladies, and the three young men, and the doctor.”
”The old lady!” cried d.i.c.k. ”Who was she? What was her name?”
”I think they called her Sobber, same as one of the young fellows. They had her along to look after the girls.”
”It must be the one from Boston!” cried Sam. ”Tad's aunt, or whatever she is.”
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