Read The Auto Boys' Quest Page 1




  Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Mary Meehan and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  THE AUTO BOYS' QUEST

  _By_ JAMES A. BRADEN

  AUTHOR OF "THE AUTO BOYS," "THE AUTO BOYS' OUTING," "FAR PAST THEFRONTIER," "CAPTIVES THREE," "CONNECTICUT BOYS IN THE WESTERN RESERVE,"ETC.

  ILLUSTRATED BY ARTHUR DeBEBIAN

  THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY CHICAGO, AKRON OHIO, NEW YORK

  Copyright, 1910 By The Saalfield Publishing Company

  Phil held up a yellow envelope, then read: "Know you havegone. Don't know where. Rushing around crazy."]

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER PAGE

  I A Plan and a Scheme 7

  II A Little Practice in Strategy 23

  III A Plan that Did not Fail 40

  IV Safely Away 53

  V Camping on a Strange Road 74

  VI On to the Gold Cup Races 90

  VII A Night Adventure 104

  VIII Plans for the Big Race 120

  IX The Crafty Plan of Mr. Gouger 134

  X Adventure Befalls the Chosen Trio 151

  XI Mr. Blackbeard, the Giant 168

  XII Discovered 184

  XIII Around the Gold Cup Circuit 203

  XIV At the Clarion Racing Camp 218

  XV Secrets of the Woods 233

  THE AUTO BOYS' QUEST

  CHAPTER I

  A PLAN AND A SCHEME

  "And they piled three stones one on top of another to mark the place.The first was just a big field stone, the second was rough and flat andthe third, which was at the top, was the kind called conglomerate. Youknow--all full of pebbles, like coarse gravel pressed into a mass.Or--or like a fruit cake."

  There was a note of earnestness in Billy Worth's voice, as if he felthis words to be of great importance and desired that his hearers beimpressed accordingly. That his communication did have reference to animportant matter was made most apparent, perhaps, by the response itelicited, also earnestly spoken:

  "And if no one has disturbed them, the chances are the rocks are thereyet," said Phil Way. "I mean that, although the heaving of the ground,as it froze and thawed winter after winter, would probably throw thepile down, the three different stones would still be close together foryears upon years."

  "And I'll be standing here for years upon years without starting thisengine if you don't give me a spark! Almost breaking myself in two, andyou sit there threshing over that old stone pile again! Did you think Iwas working this crank handle just for exercise?" These remarks, bothearnest and emphatic, came from a young gentleman who stood at the frontof a large touring car, the forward seats of which vehicle were occupiedby the two whose words have been earlier noted. "Or did you think I wastrying an experiment in perpetual motion?" he added, with equal sarcasm.

  Mr. Billy Worth, at the steering wheel, laughed good-naturedly. "Isolemnly beg your pardon, Mac," he said. "I was thinking of those threestones. Now you're all right!" So saying, he moved the quadrant to thepoint at which there was a spark advanced to set the automobile's enginechugging when his friend with the crank handle had again given it aninitial motion.

  "Was pretty sure Dave would make a discovery if he worked hard enough,"piped a shrill voice tantalizingly. "I noticed that the spark wasn't on.Meant to mention it after while, but really didn't like to interrupt theconversation!"

  These remarks, accompanied by a very self-complacent grin, proceededfrom a young gentleman whose half-recumbent position in the tonneau waspossibly more comfortable than dignified. Indeed, comfort rather thandignity was plainly his preference as no doubt it often is with personssomewhat less than fifteen years of age.

  "Meant to mention it, did you?" came with marked emphasis from the oneaddressed as Dave, slamming the tonneau door behind him, as the machinemoved out of its quarters--a tidy green and yellow building nestlingbeneath some old elms. "Meant to mention it, eh?" and putting handssuddenly upon the youthful humorist's shoulders, he shook him prettyvigorously.

  The latter took his punishment with utmost good nature, saying only, "Nofault of mine! If you fellows don't know how to start the car, let meknow and I'll teach you. Gee whiz!"

  With all its irony, this speech was allowed to pass unnoticed for nowthe automobile glided with a gentle bounce over the sidewalk and out ofthe cinder drive of Dr. Way's residence into the street. All fourpassengers settled themselves in their seats as if for a rapid ride.Their car ran beautifully and in scarcely more time than is required tostate the fact its glistening wheels and body, its shining wind shield,lamps and horn had disappeared at the park gate far down the avenue.

  Had you happened to be in that well-known city of the Middle West,Lannington, on this early day of June in the year 190--, and had younoticed this particular automobile as, guided by well-trained hands, itswept with a flourish around the curve and in through the park entrance,quite possibly you would have wished to make inquiry concerning the carand its occupants. There was something of quiet distinction about thelatter and about the machine and the way it was handled.

  Inquiry from any person interested in boys or motoring or both--and whois not?--would have been, indeed, entirely natural. Nor would theveriest stranger have experienced difficulty in obtaining information.While in no sense were they especially prominent because of wealth,exalted social position or otherwise, the Auto Boys, as the four werecalled, were at least well known.

  Introduced briefly and individually they are Phil Way, Billy Worth, DaveMacLester and Paul Jones. Just what sort of lads they are will becomeapparent as the acquaintanceship progresses. At the present momentattention must be returned to the spot they have so recentlyquitted--the little green and yellow building beneath the elms.

  A very tidy structure is the small garage the four friends call theirown. It stands at the end of the drive leading out past the bloomingsyringas and a great bed of vari-colored peonies to the street. Approachand entrance from that direction are very convenient. Or entrance by wayof the alley, in the rear, may be accomplished quite as easily. Itsdoors, both front and back, are the largest things about the building.With both opened wide the automobile can be driven directly through. Toback the car out is unnecessary at any time. Driving in from the rearmeans simply driving out through the front doors, or vice versa.

  The custom of the young proprietors of this model establishment of itskind with reference to coming and going with the car was well knownamong their acquaintances. It was well known, too, that at most timesthe alley doors of the garage were kept closed and locked. Just why anyof their friends should remain waiting at that side of the building,therefore, with them inside and the machine headed toward the street, asa glance in at the back window would easily show, might well beconsidered a trifle mysterious.

  Also, just why any friend should apply an ear to the small crack betweenthe door and the wall of the building proper--stooping down in anattitude of thoughtful attention upon all that was taking placeinside--might well be made a subject of inquiry.

  Nevertheless precisely such a situation had existed to-day. A sharp-eyedyoung fellow, not much less than sixteen years of age, had stood for allof ten minutes in practically the position indicated. Not until theautomobile and its owners had departed did he also leave, walkinghastily down the alley and keeping much closer under the cover of thehigh, tight-board fence t
han would seem entirely necessary.

  The young man was too respectable in his general appearance to bemistaken for a tramp or other type of vagabond loitering about for nogood purpose. Nor had he any of the usual sneak-thief characteristics,suspicious as his actions were. Only a half-surly, half-defiantexpression about his hawk-like eyes and a scowl above his heavy browsgave a clue to his thoughts and purposes. It was easy to guess that insome way he had suffered a disappointment.

  At the corner of a residence street upon which the lad presentlyemerged, his face lighted up. Smiling, as if he had concluded to thinkbetter of the matter whatever it may have been, he spoke quite aloud,yet in a low tone: "'And they piled three stones on top of one anotherto mark the place. One was a big field stone, another a flat stone andthe third, which was at the top, was conglomerate.'" And then a momentlater, "'Conglomerate! All full of pebbles like coarse gravel!' As ifany man didn't know 'conglomerate'!"

  There was something coarse and rasping in the way the boy repeated thelatter phrase of the words he had overheard at the green and yellowshed. It suggested both maliciousness and mischief. His further languageas he spoke in undertones to no ears but his own was confirmation ofsuch an opinion. "Plenty of time yet. Guess wherever any old thirtyhorse-power motor can go, a forty-five can follow! Confound those littlebeasts! I don't see where they can be!"

  That the young man's latter remark, even less amiable than it wascomplimentary, had reference to someone whom he expected to see, wasmade apparent a few minutes later when a heavy car of the roadster type,too lumbering to be of the best, came suddenly around the corner andstopped at the curb near him. The machine carried two young fellows ofabout his own age.

  "Been looking for you everywhere, Pick," said one of the two--he at thewheel--"You said you'd go out Chestnut. What you doing way down here onthe avenue?"

  "Said nothin' of the kind," growled the sharp-eyed one. "I said I'dmeet you right here on Green Avenue. Been looking for you till--"

  "You did _not_!" spoke the other of the two in the car. "I know what yousaid!"

  But by that time the lad called "Pick" had seated himself in the doublerumble, and as the automobile moved forward--"Oh shut up!" he answeredmoodily. "I'm sore! Still nothing to it but talk of the three stones.Anyhow, though, I've got the exact words about them," and with this herepeated the description of three stones, piled one on top of another,substantially as he had overheard the same.

  "Well, they're going somewhere and they're going to start soon. I'vefound out that much, for sure," spoke the chap who drove. He was areally likable looking fellow, named Perth--Fred, or more often Freddy,when addressed by his first name.

  The lad beside him was "Soapy"--otherwise Harry--Gaines, the somewhatspoiled son of one of the very few rich men in Lannington. He was ofsuch uncertain temper, slipping so far beyond the reach of ordinarymortals and putting on ever and again so vast an air of superiority,possibly because of the paternal wealth, but with or without cause orreason, that his nickname seemed well applied. He it was who claimedownership of the Roadster.

  "Course they're going somewhere! Haven't we known it all along? Didn'tthey say themselves they were going, and just as good as tell us wewasn't wanted, when we told 'em we'd go with 'em? Humph! They've had aplan rigged up this long while and making such a mystery of it that halfthe town wonders what they're up to."

  He of the hawk eyes--otherwise "Pick," otherwise Tom Pickton--was thespeaker. The coarse, rasping quality of his voice was the morepronounced as he put more contempt in it. "Just the same, I'm thinkingthey can't go where we can't follow--if we like; eh, Gaines?" It was inquite a different key, though the voice was still harsh as a file, thatPickton addressed the owner of the machine.

  The latter young gentleman said that with his car he could run circlesaround the persons to whom the other made reference. He was of theopinion that nothing more interesting could be desired, however, thanmerely to trail along behind the Auto Boys, (for it was to them that theconversation referred) and by thus being constantly present, annoy andharass them in a way that would be a "deuced lot o' fun."

  Then, too, if the four chums who had declined the self-extendedinvitation that Soapy and his friends accompany them, had in mind thesecret exploring of a mystery, a search for a robbers' cave or some suchthing, which was considered to be their real purpose, they would beenabled to carry out their plan, at last, only by making terms with theChosen Trio.

  The Chosen Trio, it will be understood, was the name by which Messrs.Pickton, Gaines and Perth had elected to style themselves. "Chosen to behanged, if anything!" Paul Jones had ungraciously said; but that isneither here nor there. The three were in no immediate danger ofmeeting such a fate, and they _were_ capable of making themselves mostextremely disagreeable, without appearing to trespass beyond theirlawful rights. Where one automobile was allowed, for instance, anothermight follow; and the public roads everywhere were built no more for oneindividual than for another.

  "Well, I was only going to say, if you'll give me the chance, that Iknow the four of 'em are going on a trip and what's more I know justabout where," put in Fred Perth, as Soapy concluded. "They've hired JimUnderhill to attend to a lot of the work they had engaged to do and theytold him he'd have to begin next week sometime. They wouldn't tell Jimwhere they were going. Just said, 'Ask me no questions an' I'll tell youno lies,' when he put it straight at 'em to know what for a trip wasscheduled."

  "Next week, eh?" Pickton ejaculated. "_We're_ ready _now_. All we've gotto do is watch their old boat and when they begin to pack up it will beditto here. Nothing much to that, eh?"

  "Everything's fixed for me to leave any time," said Perth, thinking withsatisfaction how, after much difficulty, he had obtained permission toaccompany Gaines and Pickton on a proposed motoring expedition.

  "Huh! I'll just _go_," spoke Soapy in that braggadocio way so common tohis kind.

  "Ought to get some new stuff in the touring outfit, I suppose," put inPick, as if to himself, but really fearful that at the last moment, dueto Gaines' well-known careless ways, the car would be found without oneitem of spare equipment.

  "By George! That's right! Run down to the Park Garage, Freddy. We'llload up some stuff and I'll have 'em put it in dad's next month's bill.We'll be away by that time."

  These instructions from Soapy, always willing to make purchases if theywere to be charged, and the more so if he saw at hand a way to deferfor a time an interview with his father in regard to them, changed thecourse of the Roadster away from the residence district of the city tothe business center.

  As the car passed the down-town entrance to the park, the machine of theAuto Boys came up behind and, gliding past, halted before the door ofthe automobile establishment toward which the Chosen Trio had journeyed.The Roadster drew up beside the Thirty.

  "So you fellows are going to let daylight into some more mysteries, eh?"said Pick, in a tone of banter to the occupants of the other machine.

  "Are we?" asked Billy Worth, with a smile.

  "But you needn't tear yourselves away on that account. We haven't goneyet," Dave MacLester added as Soapy said, "Drive on!"

  Perhaps it was the quiet, unruffled and yet absolutely uncommunicativetones of the Auto Boys that fired Soapy Gaines' wrath. Like a pouterpigeon he swelled up. "Aw, sure, drive on!" he said to Perth, still atthe wheel. "And don't you think," he added in a low tone, still pompousbut threatening, too--"And don't you think that we won't make 'em getright down on their knees to us or wish they'd never left home."

  "Or both!" laughed Pickton in that unbearably rasping way.

  "Yes, or both," was the response, "and some more on top of that! I'mgoing into this thing right, now, just for that low-down answer ofWorth's if nothing else--the little two-by-four!"

  "But yet--"

  It was Perth who would have spoken, and it was in his mind to say thathe saw nothing particularly objectionable in Billy Worth's words; thathis answer to Pick's observation was natural enough.

&
nbsp; "'But yet'? Just you keep your 'but yet' till later on. I'm talkingnow!" interrupted Soapy, savagely. "I'm talking now, I say!"

  The fact is, indeed, that Mr. Soapy Gaines was quite apt to talk toomuch.