Gouger's back yard, the robins were twittering joyously. But their lively notes awakened no responsive feeling in the hearts of the imprisoned Trio.

Remotely possible is it, however, that, unnoticed though their music was, the songsters exerted an influence upon the thoughts of Soapy Gaines; or it may have been only a coincidence. At any rate, his spoken words were--

"I'll be blamed, Pick, if you ain't a bird! Followed that duffer into this trap like a pup trailing a meat wagon. Blame me, if you ain't a real _bird_!"

Mr. Gaines' tones, it may be stated, were even less complimentary than his language.

CHAPTER X

ADVENTURE BEFALLS THE CHOSEN TRIO

The stable's one window, composed of two small panes of extremely dirty gla.s.s, admitted to the young gentlemen within a dingy light. The shed was empty, save for the dirt and litter everywhere; but not one crack or crevice could be seen to suggest a loose board and possible means of escape. Clambering up to the little window, however, Freddy Perth discovered that it was hooked inside and he lost no time in admitting the air and sunlight.

"Can wriggle through here, all right, if we want to do it!" he exclaimed in loud undertones.

"Get along then, quick!" ordered Pickton. "S'pose we're going to stay here and get fined? You right after me, Soapy!"

Ordinarily Pick would have shown Gaines a very noticeable deference in allowing him to go first; but this was a different situation. He even resented Fred's being ahead of himself, and fumed irritably while that young fellow was slowly struggling through the narrow opening.

With no ledge or projection of any kind on the outer wall to steady him, Perth could only slip one foot and then the other through the window, let his body follow and drop to the ground. He struck in the midst of a wet and sticky heap of decaying weeds, garbage, tin cans, ashes and broken crockery but fortunately, upon his feet.

More frightened than ever, now, he viewed impatiently Pickton's painful efforts to force himself out of the stable by the same route, and his eventual success.

"For pity's sake, Gaines, don't be all day!" admonished Pick fretfully, when finally he had reached the ground in safety. "Let go, now! You're all right! Hangin' on there like a crazy pinchin' bug!"

Thus pleasantly encouraged, Soapy had by this time his head and body through the aperture, and was moved, yet loath, to let go his desperate grasp upon the edges of the window's frame. Stupidly he had not advanced feet first and in consequence there was but one chance in a thousand of his being able to alight upon those extremities when he let himself down. However the urgency of the situation as well as his friend's caustic remarks determined him to make the effort and with a subdued groan he pitched forward.

It was only as might be expected, under the circ.u.mstances, that when Gaines sought to leap clear of the window and get his feet in under him, he failed--failed wretchedly. His head plunged into a large, and sadly decomposed pumpkin, carried out to the heap of refuse when Mrs. Gouger had cleaned the cellar recently. His hands grasped only the wet, decaying weeds and, unable to steady himself, he rolled on his back amid the cans, the ashes and all that the rank heap contained.

If there was consolation for young Mr. Gaines in the fact that the pumpkin had broken the force of his fall, he expressed it in a weird and peculiar manner, as he struggled out. If he found reason to congratulate himself that, beyond a mixture of pumpkin pulp and seeds upon his face and in his hair, and sundry sorts of decomposed vegetation clinging to his hands and arms and clothing, he was not injured, he did this, likewise, in strangely excited, irritated language.

Perhaps he was thinking of other things than either consolation or congratulations. Nevertheless he let Perth lead him quickly to the car, half-blinded with the juices of the pumpkin in his eyes. Pickton had the engine going, and Soapy was pushed and lifted into his seat with more dispatch than ceremony. Even while Fred climbed up to the rumble the automobile was put under way. Then out of the alley and down the side street it lunged as if Eli Gouger were but a yard behind.

To follow the side streets to the city's outskirts, and avoid every thoroughfare that looked like a princ.i.p.al artery of the town, was Pickton's plan. For some distance he put on great speed, but later heeded Perth's suggestion to go more slowly and so attract less notice.

And as even moderate driving would take one from center to circ.u.mference of Sagersgrove in no great length of time, the Roadster was well into the country within a quarter of an hour.

But on and on Pickton hurried. Whither he went he cared not, nor looked to see where he might turn to left or right. He wanted only to leave behind as far as possible the pursuers he believed would certainly be coming on.

"We'll be at the south pole sooner than the Queensville race course at this rate," Freddy Perth shouted, at last. "Head down the first likely looking road west. Great guns! Things aren't so desperate as all this!"

Soapy Gaines, still bearing noticeable evidence in his hair and on his clothing of his plunge from the window, but now able to see as usual, vehemently acquiesced in Perth's suggestion.

"Never saw a man lose his head so!" he growled, with reference to Pickton's frantic haste, regardless of direction. "We're after that Phil Way outfit, don't you know it! Catch 'em about next year! Sagersgrove is where we were going to get right behind 'em on the old pike!"

"A few miles west, then on the first thing that looks like a road, due north, and we'll come to the pike," suggested Fred, more pleasantly. "We can't help but recognize it, and the paper said Way's crowd took that route. Keep a-going. If we don't stop for noon we won't have lost much time, after all."

The still frightened travelers reached their looked-for road to the west a mile further on. Often they had looked back, but now they paused and scrutinized carefully the distant horizon in the direction they had come.

An old black horse and buckboard and a small boy in charge of that conveyance, which they had pa.s.sed a few minutes before, were the only objects in sight along the dusty, sunny road. Over in the pasture on the right, some cows were feeding. In the wood lot on the left silence reigned save for the vagrant breeze faintly rustling the leaves. From a farmyard further down the road came indistinctly the cackling of a hen in token of a new laid egg added to the world's food supply; but for aught else within view or hearing the three lads might have been the sole inhabitants of the country.

The general influence of the calm and quiet scene was beneficial to the excited minds of Mr. Gouger's erstwhile prisoners. At a far more moderate speed than they had lately traveled they now went forward again, taking the road to the west. It pitched down a remarkably long, stony hill, then crossed a broad valley. And as by following this route the Trio escaped the necessity of taking a round-about way on the north side of Sagersgrove, as the Auto Boys had done, to pa.s.s the streets torn up for improvements, they really fared better than they thought.

Particularly was this true when, by mid-afternoon, they found themselves on the hard, level surface of the old State pike, quite as Freddy Perth had planned. What difficulties they escaped by missing the northern route the Auto Boys used, and what danger of straying into the Cowslip marshes they thus avoided, the travelers never discovered.

The fever of excitement accompanying their flight from the stable had quite subsided as Fred and Pickton exchanged places, the former taking the wheel preparatory to a long, steady run over the fine old pike.

Three objects were now kept constantly in view. One, to leave Sagersgrove as far behind as possible before nightfall; another, to discover a store or restaurant where provisions for a picnic supper might be purchased, and the third to gain, if possible, certain information as to whether the Auto Boys had pa.s.sed that way. A camping place for the night was a fourth but much later consideration, for it had been decided to keep the car in motion until a late hour.

Years ago one would have found plenty of opportunities to purchase either food or lodging along the still famous old road the boys were traveling. At nearly every four corners was a tavern or some house whose hospitality might be enjoyed for a moderate price. Frequent hamlets and villages marked the way, also, and there quite elaborate entertainment might be obtained at the inns. Very different did the Trio find the situation, however--as different, almost, as the contrast between their own conveyance and the stage coaches of old.

In one small settlement after another did either Perth or Pickton leave the car to inquire for the provisions they wanted, but beyond crackers, cheese and sometimes dry, hard cakes or cookies the general country stores offered them, they found nothing.

"We would have brought some proper stuff to eat along if you two hadn't been in such a frothy hurry!" growled Soapy Gaines, and as he spoke he was busily consuming the last of a dozen bananas Fred had brought from home.

But Mr. Gaines was not much given to self-denial or to a considerate manner at any time. He had set his heart on cold ham or chicken, iced tea and salad for his supper. The prospect of feasting on crackers and cheese did not strike him at all favorably, hungry as he was. Being pretty tired and having the mortification of his ridiculous plunge into the decayed pumpkin still in his mind, as well, it may be said that he was not the most agreeable of traveling companions.

And indeed, his mood showed little improvement as time pa.s.sed. How much of his more than usual ill-temper might be attributed to the humiliating plunge from Eli Gouger's stable window, would be difficult to determine.

No doubt he thought much of it and so grew all the more irritable, instead of pa.s.sing the whole matter off with a laugh and then forgetting it, as any sensible young fellow would have done.

But Gaines had not gathered in environment or training even a moderate degree of good, sound sense. Perhaps he was not alone at fault, yet right here it may be said that, clear through to the wretched and unfortunate end of his connection with the present enterprise, he maintained quite constantly an air either of bullying and grumbling or utterly selfish indolence and indifference.

Freddy Perth and Pickton, as well, for that matter, were quite willing to make a supper of such simple provisions as they could obtain at the general stores, with the possible addition of milk, and maybe a pie or fresh bread and b.u.t.ter from some farmhouse. But no extent of "soap," as Perth called the wheedling talk and flattery Pick administered to Gaines, would make that young gentleman agree. It was quite dark, therefore, ere a town affording even moderately good hotel accommodations was reached. There a stop for supper was made. Even then Soapy found the iced tea and the salad not at all to his taste, but ate hugely of the plainer fare.

A more important development of the hour spent in the hotel was the certain knowledge gained that four lads in a heavily-laden touring car had stopped to purchase some newspapers a couple of days earlier. The news-stand clerk supplied this information quite frankly when asked if such tourists had been noticed pa.s.sing through. He added that there would be many touring parties on the roads during the next week or more, going to the Gold Cup races.

So certain was he in his own mind, indeed, that the boys before him were bound for the big stock car contests (as he likewise had no doubt the four earlier travelers had been) that unconsciously he overstepped the truth in the report he gave. The young men who had pa.s.sed on in advance had _told_ him, he said, that they were _going_ to the races. He _thought_ they had stated that they would stay in Queensville.

"Sure thing!" exclaimed Freddy Perth as the information gleaned was discussed while the Roadster forged steadily forward again, a little later. "Sure thing!" said he. "I didn't think there was much to that 'three stones piled one on top of another,' unless just marking the place they are to have beside the race course. They'll go straight to Queensville. If we keep going late to-night, we can be there by to-morrow night ourselves."

Again Gaines gave it as his opinion that the Auto Boys had some business venture, as well as the races in view. Again Pickton kept to himself his thoughts on this subject--thoughts that were far from loyal to his companions. Maybe it would have been better had he mentioned them. Maybe it would have been better had he changed the plan that, in his heart, he knew he had formulated even before this journey was fairly started.

It was a warm June night. Fireflies flashed and vanished in constant succession over the field and along the roadsides. In the frequent farmhouses the lights shone pleasantly through open doors and windows.

And always the gas lamps of the Roadster showed ahead a clear, smooth course. The car was leaving the miles steadily behind. Under the influence of the calm surroundings and the automobile's easy motion, Soapy fell asleep. He had turned partially upon his side and rested his head upon his arm thrown over the back of the bucket seat.

"We'll make camp when we find a good place," said Perth, at the wheel, over his shoulder to Pickton, "Gaines is dead to the world."

"Blessed good thing! He'd insist on a feather bed or something, if he wasn't," the person addressed made answer. "Don't know that I relish the idea of sleeping out very much myself; but gee whiz! I haven't got the price to hunt up hotels every time we want a meal or a bed, and neither have you. And you take it from me, Soapy will want to borrow some money from one of us before the week is over. I'll not give him a picayune!"

"Humph!" Perth responded, and that was all he did say. He didn't fancy the change in Pickton's words and tone, now that Gaines would not hear.

But later he did add:

"It's camp out or nothing for me. That is what we planned to do and if we don't find a place where we can do what cooking we have to do, I'll get a room somewhere and pick up meals as best I can. Then if I run out of money I'm going to get a job at something or another till the races come off. Might as well see them, while we're there. Our chasing Phil Way and his bunch isn't going to amount to anything anyway--nothing more than that they won't be able to say they saw the Gold Cup and we didn't."

"You stick to me, Fred. We'll make Gaines do as we all agreed. We are going to find Worth and Way and those fellows and we're going to have some fun with 'em. We can rough it just as well as they can and if Gaines don't like it--"

"Oh, fiddle! You dream miracles and talk wonders! And it stops there,"