"Gid Gibbons," flashed through Roy's mind. He was almost at a thick clump of alders now. As he heard the splashing of the bodies of the abductors, as they took to the water after him, he plunged into the coppice and pushed rapidly on into its intricacies.

Shouts and cries came from behind him, and suddenly a blinding shaft of white radiance cut through the blackness. They had turned on the searchlight of the car in a determined effort to locate their escaped prisoner.

As the light penetrated among the maze of alder trunks, Roy threw himself flat. While his pursuers hunted about, muttering and angrily discussing the situation, he crouched in his shelter, hardly daring to breathe.

After what seemed an eternity of suspense he heard one of the men, whose voice he seemed to recognize as that of the pistol carrier, angrily declaiming.

"Aw, what's ther use, ther kid is a mile off by this time, worse luck."

"Hush, don't talk so loud," came another voice. "You don't know who may be about."

"Well, we'd better be getting that car out of the mud and making ourselves scarce," came in the tones which Roy was certain were those of Gid Gibbons. "If there's a hue and cry raised about this and they find that car stranded here they can easy trace us."

"That's so," was the response in the voice of Jukes Dade. "Come on, boys, we'll get her out of this confounded slough if we can, and get back to town."

The voices died away as they retreated, splashing like water animals through the mud and ooze.

As silence fell once more Roy straightened up from his unpleasant situation and looked about him. The night was starry, and above his head he could see The Dipper. He knew that the outside stars of this constellation pointed to the North Star and he soon had the latter located. This gave him the points of the compa.s.s, and figuring that Acatonick must lie to the east of his present position, he struck out in that direction as nearly as he could.

He had no idea of the time, to his great chagrin, for in his haste to obey the forged summons to the flying track he had forgotten to bring his watch. In fact, in his hurry, he had slipped into an old coat, the pockets of which contained nothing more useful to him than a packet of chewing gum. He slipped a wad of this into his mouth to "keep him company" as he expressed it to himself, and grittily went forward.

The wood ended presently, and he found himself in a field with woods on all three sides, except that on which the swamp impinged. Little as he liked the idea of plunging into pathless woods, with nothing to guide him but the stars, as he glimpsed them through the trees, there was no help for it. Go on he must. Crossing the field rapidly he soon reached the border of the tangle and entered its black shadows. Keeping as straight a line as he could he hastened forward, and to his great delight, soon saw that the trees were beginning to thin out, and that beyond lay, apparently, open country.

"Hooray, I'm bound to strike a road before long now," thought Roy gleefully and quickened his pace.

He had not gone more than a few paces, however, when through the trees he heard a strange sound. It was a clinking sound like the rattling of a chain.

The boy was bold enough, but the mysterious sound on the edge of that dark wood caused his pulses to beat a bit quicker. What could it be?

Gradually, as he stood still among the trees, the sound drew closer.

"Ghosts in story books always clank chains," thought Roy, to himself.

"Now if I believed in such things, I----"

He stopped short abruptly, as, from behind a clump of brush in the direction from whence the clanking had proceeded, there suddenly emerged a tall form all in white.

"Good gracious!" cried Roy, considerably startled by the sight of this sudden apparition. "I do believe----"

But at the sight of the white form he had involuntarily given a backward step. Without the slightest warning he felt the ground suddenly give way under his feet, and his body shot down through s.p.a.ce.

Down, down he shot, a hundred mad thoughts twisting dizzily in his head.

All at once his progress was arrested. Before he could realize what had happened he felt a flood of icy cold water close over his head and a mighty ringing and roaring in his ears.

But Roy was used to diving, and he automatically, almost, held his breath till he shot to the surface again. Then he extended his hands and found that his fingers encountered a rough stone wall of some kind.

"I'm in an old well," gasped the boy as the truth suddenly flashed across him. He looked upward. Far above him, as if seen through a telescope, he could see the glittering stars. They were reflected, also, in the agitated water about him.

Somewhat to his astonishment, for the thought of death itself had been in his mind as he hurtled downward, Roy found that he was unhurt. But his present position was by no means one to invite congratulations. At the bottom of an old well in the midst of lonely fields he might stay a long time before rescue would arrive.

And in the meantime,--but Roy bravely put such thoughts resolutely out of his head, and began to feel about him to see if it was not possible to find some rough places in the sides of the excavation by which he might clamber to the surface. But his fingers only encountered stonework set far too smoothly to be of any service to him.

Then he suddenly noticed what he had not observed before, and that was that a rope depended from above, trailing its end down into the water. It was too thin to bear his weight, but the boy thought he could utilize it to keep himself above the surface without effort.

Tying a loop knot in it he thrust an arm through the noose and found that he could sustain himself very comfortably. Then he began to shout. Loudly at first--and then more feebly as his voice grew tired. But no answering sound came back to him.

For the first time since he had found himself in his predicament cold fear clutched at the young aviator's heart.

What if n.o.body heard him and he was compelled to remain at the bottom of the old well?

As this thought shot through his mind Roy noticed, too, that a deadly chill was beginning to creep up his limbs. He shivered waist deep in the chilly water as if he had an ague.

CHAPTER XVII.

A COWARD AND HIS WAYS.

Peggy awoke the next day with a feeling of distinct uneasiness. She and her aunt had sat up till after midnight awaiting Roy's return, but, as we know, the lad was in a position from which he could not extricate himself. An attempt had been made to communicate with the aviation grounds, but an unlucky aeroplane had blundered against the telephone wire during an afternoon flight, snapping the thread of communication.

In spite of the late hour at which they had retired, however, Miss Prescott and her niece were up betimes. But early as it was they found the little town all astir. Excursion trains were already pouring their crowds into the place and the streets were fairly alive with humanity.

Peggy's first act on awaking was to gaze out of the window, beneath which some fine trees grew. Not a breath of wind stirred their leaves. The air was as clear and undisturbed as it was possible for it to be.

Donning a white duck skirt and a plain shirt waist, and dressing her hair in a becomingly simple style, Peggy hastened to the office of the hotel, and going to the telephone switchboard asked the operator to put her in communication with Roy's room. But after several minutes spent in a vain attempt to obtain an answer Central had to inform the anxious girl that there was no reply.

Thinking that after his late absence of the night before Roy might have overslept, Peggy despatched a bellboy to his room. But the report came back that the room was empty and that Roy's bed had not been slept in.

"See if you can get the executive office on the aviation grounds," said Peggy to the 'phone girl. But although the wire had been repaired and communication was easily established, there was no news of Roy. Worse still for Peggy's peace of mind, she learned now, for the first time, that there had been no meeting at the aviation field the night before.

"If your brother got a note to that effect it was a forgery," said the official who answered the call.

Peggy fairly flew upstairs to her aunt's room. Rapidly she informed Miss Prescott of what had happened.

"Oh, I'm certain now that that hateful Fanning Harding has something to do with it," she almost sobbed.

"Hush, dear," said her aunt, although in the gentle lady's breast a great fear had arisen, "everything may be all right. At any rate, I do not believe that any one, no matter how anxious they were that you should not compete in the race, would dare to resort to such methods to keep Roy out of the contest."

"I don't know so much about that, auntie," rejoined the girl. "I was in our hangar yesterday afternoon and I noticed a horrid looking man prowling about with Fanning Harding. If it had not been too improbable I should say that I knew the man's face."

"My dear!" exclaimed the good lady in astonishment.

"Well," rejoined Peggy with conviction, "I'm almost sure that the man was Jukes Dade, a workman who once was employed in his laboratory and workshop by my father. He was a skillful mechanic, but dad had to discharge him because he drank fearfully. He swore at the time that he would get even with us in some way. But we never heard any more of him.

Yet if that really was him with Fanning Harding yesterday I'm awfully afraid that there is some mischief stirring."

"What you say, my dear, makes me also very anxious," responded Miss Prescott. "Perhaps we had better communicate with the police at once."

"Not yet, aunt," breathed Peggy; "you see, Roy may turn up in time for the race, and if he does, everything will be all right."