The Auto Boys' Vacation - BestLightNovel.com
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They argued it out that last night at Griffin, which they were to leave in the morning for the east.
"Somehow I'd like to see New York more'n Boston, I think," remarked Way.
"It would shorten the time of our vacation, and give us more time for side trips, say to Niagara Falls or, if we went down the Hudson, to West Point."
"Geewhillikins! Stop it, Phil!" cried Paul, making a grimace. "I tell you what, boys! After all our troubles we're going to take in the real country from here on. If I don't see the Falls, 'twill be because you vote against the Big Six going there."
"And West Point!" This from MacLester, no longer gloomy-viewed. "I've wanted to see that place ever so long."
"Tell you what we can do," chimed in Billy, who had been listening intently. "Let's have a sort of elastic program, a go-as-you-please route, governed each day by taking a vote as to how we'll go from then on, subject always to approval of a majority of the voters."
"Will that do?" queried Phil humorously. "There are only four votes.
Suppose it's a tie, what then?"
"Aw, Phil!" from the irrepressible Paul. "If it comes to a tie, we'll keep talking and voting until it's unanimous or three to one. I guess we've all got some horse sense!"
Without too much stickling for unanimity, it was finally agreed that while the general plan of the eastern trip should remain the same, whenever advisable there would also be discussions of the next move which would require at least a three-to-one vote in order to decide.
"We may all be fools some of the time," voiced Dave sagely, paraphrasing Lincoln's noteworthy p.r.o.nouncement, "but we won't all of us be fools all the time." This while shaking his head dubiously at Jones, Esq., who sniffed scornfully.
Accordingly, the following morning when the Big Six left Griffin its course was eastward over the big highway prescribed in the guide book.
Phil, Dave and Paul took turns at the wheel, and when night was again upon them they were nearing a small town where, according to the guide book, one might turn to the left and before the day was over be fairly within an hour or so of Niagara Falls. They put up at a modest hotel, stored the auto in a convenient garage, took supper and, after a short stroll along an uninteresting main street, retired for the night to a large bedroom with two double beds.
Some debate ensued as to whether they should turn off and visit the big falls, during which Worth dropped off asleep while MacLester nearly jerked his head loose as he nodded from the depths of an ancient armchair.
"Aw, what's the use?" grumbled Paul. "_They_ don't care _where_ we go!"
He pointed at Billy snug in bed, while Dave nodded the sleeper's approval of whatever course might be taken on the morrow. "They don't care, I say."
"Well, what do you say, Paul?" Phil regarded the boy quizzically. "Have you ever seen the Falls?"
"No, nor I don't care if I _never_ see 'em. Nothing but a roar of water and a cloud of wet spray if you go near 'em below." Paul's grammar was humorously absurd at times.
"How do you know, if you've never been there?"
"Haven't I read and heard about 'em ever since I was knee high to a duck?"
"Well then, let's vote. You wake Billy up."
While Paul was shaking and struggling with Worth, now angry over being thus disturbed, Phil gently tweaked Dave's nose until he staggered to his feet, making half-blind pa.s.ses at his disturber as he mumbled:
"G'way, you! I--I'll punch your head, you--you--you--" And that was as far as he ever got.
"We're voting to know if we go to the Falls or keep straight on," urged Phil loudly. "What is it to be?"
Paul just then relinquis.h.i.+ng his clutch on Billy's nights.h.i.+rt, the latter flopped back on his pillow, jerked the quilt over his head and was buried to the outer world. Phil pinched Dave's ear until the nodding one hauled back and struck out feebly, hitting nothing and throwing himself back into the big chair's embracing arms.
This being the dumb reply of both, Phil grinned at Paul as he half whispered:
"What do you vote, Paul? Is it straight on, leaving the Falls for another time?"
"Bet your life--that's me! Say, Phil, I'll tell you what I'd really like to do." As he said this Paul drew from his pocket a crumpled, soiled bit of paper. "Here's something I got hold of at Griffin."
"Right here's where we turn off to the right, according to this paper.
Got it from Fobes. The Chief said he took it from Coster, who was tearing mad because Fobes got it away from him. Somewhere beyond here--don't say where--there's a one-horse tavern--old place, pretty well off the main track. But it's mighty nigh one of the main railroad lines."
While Paul was talking Phil was examining the paper, growing more interested as he went on. Now he looked up, saying:
"It looks like a queer game. It may be worth a gambling chance."
"Think of the boodle! That express car was looted near there some years ago. Another tramp was riding the brake beams and saw the robbers make off in the nearby woods with their boodle. Papers were full of the amount taken." Paul smacked his lips as if he tasted in antic.i.p.ation what the money would do. "Then this tramp jumped off and followed them.
See? It says so here." Paul pointed to a paragraph in the ragged clipping. Phil, having already deciphered this, was reading further.
Then he said:
"That tramp was blind in one eye. Do you reckon he could tell and mark what those robbers did with their boodle?"
"Sure, if he says so. I can see most as well with my hand over one eye as with my two eyes." Paul in pantomime covered one eye and winked at Phil, who was obliged to laugh. "Well, what does this tramp do? Why, he waits round in hiding until them galoots go off after burying their loot. Then he, like a fool, goes off to sleep. When he woke up his good eye pained him so that he only marked the spot as best he could and struck for the nearest house, which happened to be this old tavern."
"I see," remarked Phil ruminatively. "From this it appears he got better and stayed, making himself so useful, choring about, that they kept him on. Of course it was the boodle that kept him at work, doubtless meaning to leave when he got better. Once he sneaked over to this big hemlock and tried to dig for the money, but owing to the great rock they had piled over it, and being weak from his sickness, he had to let it go, meaning, of course, to come back when he was strong again. But he didn't get strong. His other eye became more affected and in time he went blind. After that the tavern folks sent him to the county almshouse, and there he finally died."
"Right-o, Phil!" exclaimed Paul, unable longer to keep silence. "Just before he pegged out, along came this same Coster's brother, also a tramp. Tramp number one wouldn't tell the tavern folks because they put him in the almshouse; but he did tell tramp number two, Coster's brother, just because he was a tramp like himself, I guess. Coster's brother belonged somewhere around here and loafed his time away, always intending to visit the spot. But he, too, got sick and before he died pa.s.sed the secret along to Coster. The original thieves never came back because they were later arrested for another crime, that of killing one of themselves in a row, and the survivor or survivors were sent up for life or hanged, I reckon. Anyway, they never bothered any one any more."
"But this old printed paper doesn't tell exactly where the boodle was hid, except that it was close to a big hemlock and under a big rock."
Phil was shaking his head doubtfully. "Where would that hemlock be?
There are hemlocks scattered in the woods all around here."
"Here's something that Coster gave me while he was in jail, towards the last. You see, I'd been sort of kind to him, or he took it that way. I carried him some tobacco. When he found that he was in for a serious time, he handed out to me not only this paper but a scrawl he'd made on the back of an old envelope with a bit of pencil I'd given him some days before. At the time I couldn't make much of what he was up to. But I guess his bad luck in general was too much for him. After Rack landed him he seemed to give up. Anyway he gave me both these," meaning the printed bit of crumpled paper and the old envelope which Paul now pa.s.sed to Phil.
"Why didn't you tell us before, eh?" asked Phil sharply. "Aren't we all comrades together?"
"Yep! But I knew you'd laugh at me for being so simple as to believe anything Coster said. But since we've reached this place where we are now, the thing came back to me so strong that I fished out these papers and looked 'em over again. By jimmineddy! I can't help but think there's something in all this rigmarole after all."
Phil, after some cogitation, gave back the papers to Paul, saying:
"Let's sleep on it, Paul. You can't get anything out of them now. In the morning we will go into it again."
In the early morning Billy, who had some advantage over the rest in point of sleep, was up first, and was presently whanging the others with his pillow in a way that bade little for further slumbers on their part.
"G'way! get out!" cried Paul, feeling less interest just then in treasure hunting than in securing a few more winks before the inevitable bell for breakfast rang forth. "Remember how you acted last night when we wanted you to sit up and talk!"
As for Dave, the last to be thus treated by the now wakeful Worth, he grunted, groaned, finally heaving his own pillow at Billy who, dodging the same, renewed his offensive tactics to such effect that MacLester presently sprang forth from beside the now dozing Paul and grumblingly proceeded to dress.
"Dave," began Phil, "I got something to tell you and Billy that I want you to listen to until you get the thing firmly inside your thinkers.
Then, if you are interested, we'll wake up Paul for good and you can look at what he's got to show you. He showed it to me last night, after we tried to get you two to wake up enough to get the facts fairly through your noddles."
"'Things' and 'noddles'!" This from Billy, tossing his much abused pillow on the bed. "Why don't you get busy and talk sense? What you got to show us anyhow? As for Paul, he--he's a--"
"He is, is he?" Paul, thus exclaiming, suddenly sat up and discharged his own pillow at Billy, but only managed to hit Phil. "I didn't mean you, Phil. I've been awake for about half a minute, and I know what you're up to, Phil. Go for 'em, while I dig up the doc.u.ments."