CHAPTER IX
OFF AGAIN
The boys soon found themselves mixed up in another part of the crowd,that had, apparently, come down a side street leading to the lake front.They had some trouble disengaging themselves from it, and, when theyagain had a fairly clear street to run through, they were some distancefrom the fire.
"Did we lose 'em?" asked Fenn, panting from the run.
"What? Who?" asked Frank, who did not exactly understand the cause forthe sudden retreat.
"Those two--pickpockets," replied Fenn, not knowing exactly how toclassify the strange men.
"Here comes a couple of fellows on the run," said Ned. "I guess they'restill after us. Let's wait and ask what they want. They haven't anyright to follow us."
"No, no!" urged Fenn. "Come on back to the steamer."
He seemed so much in earnest that his chums did not stop to askquestions, but increased their speed. Just as they reached the wharf,at the end of which the _Modoc_ was tied, another fire engine,hastening to the elevator blaze, dashed by.
There was a quick clanging of the gong, and a shrill screech from thewhistle. It was instantly followed by a shout.
"The engine struck one of the men!" cried Frank, looking back. "He'sknocked down! Run over I guess! Come on back!"
The boys hesitated. They did not want to leave an injured man, even ifhe and his companion had been pursuing them. The street, at this point,was deserted, save for the two strangers. The engine did not stop, thehorses being urged on by the driver, who did not want to have thereputation of arriving last at the conflagration.
"Come on back and help him," urged Bart, who was always anxious to aidpersons in distress, even if they were enemies.
The others hesitated. It was rather a risk, Fenn thought. But theproblem was solved for them. The man who had been knocked down by theengine arose to his feet. Supporting himself on the shoulder of hiscompanion he limped off up the street, and away from the boys.
"I guess he isn't badly hurt," remarked Ned. "He'll not chase us anymore. That engine came along just in time."
"Except I guess it's too late to help put out the fire," said Frank."There can't be much left of the elevator."
"But what did we run for?" asked Ned. "Who were those chaps, Fenn?"
Fenn explained what he had heard, and expressed the belief that the menhad some business enmity against Mr. Hayward.
"They seemed delighted that the elevator, containing his grain, burneddown; or at least the one man did," he said. "Then, when they saw I waslistening, though I didn't really intend to, they acted as though theywanted to get hold of me, and see why I was so interested. I thoughtthey might be pickpockets, but now I don't believe they were."
"We must tell Captain Wiggs about it," suggested Frank.
"I don't believe I will," answered Fenn. "I don't want him to laugh atme, and I think he surely will if I suggest that the men chased us.He'll probably think we took two harmless citizens for burglars. No, Ithink the best plan will be to wait and see what turns up."
"I'll tell you what you can do," spoke Ned.
"What?" inquired Fenn.
"You can ask Captain Wiggs who owned that grain in the burned elevator.He'll know, as he was going to get a load there."
"Good idea," responded Fenn. "I will."
The boys were soon aboard the ship again. They found that the men in therowboat had returned, as the side of the elevator nearest the lake hadall burned away, and their hose was no longer effective. The fire wasunder control now, but was still blazing well. Enough engines had arrivedto prevent it spreading.
"Well, this knocks my plans all askew," remarked the commander of the_Modoc_, when the boys came on deck. "I don't know where to get mygrain, now."
"Did you say the same company that owned this steamer owned that grain?"asked Fenn, seeing a good chance to obtain the information he wanted.
"No, I said they owned the elevator," replied the captain. "The grain isa separate matter. I don't know whose that was. Whoever it belonged towon't get much good from it."
"Is there any way of telling who owned it?" asked Fenn, for he thought,even though the men had mentioned the name "Hayward," that it might besome other man than the one injured in the auto accident--some one elsethan the father of Ruth.
"Why, I can tell by looking at my order slips," replied Mr. Wiggs. "Whyare you so interested?"
"I was wondering if it was any one I knew," answered Fenn, a littleevasively, as he did not want to explain what had happened.
"Um--let's see," and Captain Wiggs who, followed by the boys had gone tothe main cabin, began thumbing over the pages of a small book he tookfrom his pocket. "'Proceed to'--no, that's not it--'take cargo'--um--no,it must be on the next page--Oh, yes, here it is. 'Get cargo of grain atLakeville, from Robert Hayward Company.' That's it. The grain belongedto Robert Hayward--why--er--say, boys, that's the name of the man whowas hurt back there in Darewell--he and his daughter Ruth--you knowhim--why, Fenn, he was at your house!"
"So he was!" exclaimed Fenn, his knowledge thus unexpectedly confirmed.
"Quite a remarkable coincidence!" went on the Captain. "Very strange!Well, strange things are always happening. You didn't hear what startedthe fire, did you?"
"I heard a policeman say it was spontaneous combustion," said Frank,"but they always give that as a cause, when they can't think of anyother."
"I don't s'pose they'll ever find out," remarked the captain. "Well, Ican't do anything more. We'd better turn in, although it's most morning.Soon as it gets daylight I'll have to hustle around and find out whatI'm going to do."
Captain Wiggs was a very busy man the next day, sending messages to thesteamer's owners to ascertain their wishes. The boys visited theelevator, in which great piles of grain were still smouldering, inspite of the tons of water poured on them. Fenn kept a lookout for themysterious men, but did not see anything of them.
Captain Wiggs had to remain tied up at Lakeville until he receivedorders to proceed to the next port for a cargo that would be awaitinghim there. The boys spent the time on shore, visiting various scenes ofinterest.
"Well, we're off again!" cried the commander, on the morning of thethird day, as he came hurrying down the dock, waving a telegram in hishand. "Tying-up is no fun. You may get under way as soon as possible,Mr. Sidleton," he added to the first mate.
Steam was up, and, in a short time the _Modoc_ was again plowing thewaters of Lake Erie. Gradually Lakeville was left behind, and soon theywere out of sight of land.
"Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Ding-dong!"
A bell suddenly sounded, with queer double strokes.
"Eight bells!" exclaimed Captain Wiggs, as he arose from a deck chairwhere he had been sitting, to the boys. "Time for mess," and he led theway toward the dining saloon.
As he was about to descend the companionway he looked over the rail.Astern of the _Modoc_ was a small steam yacht, coming on at a swiftspeed.
"That's queer," murmured the captain.
"What is?" asked Fenn, for the boys were privileged characters.
"That yacht," replied the commander. "She's been following us all themorning; ever since we left Lakeville. I wonder what the game is?Steward, bring me the glass," he called, and, when the binoculars werehanded to him, the captain took a long look at the pursuing craft.