CHAPTER XV
THE PURSUIT
Neale O'Neil did not return to Mr. Con Murphy's with a creel of fishuntil late afternoon. He was going to clean some of his fish and takethem as a present to the Corner House girls; but something the littlecobbler told him quite changed his plan.
"Here's a letter that's come to ye, me bye," said Con, looking up fromhis tap, tap tapping on somebody's shoe, and gazing over the top of hissilver-bowed spectacles at Neale.
"Thanks," said Neale, taking the missive from the leather seat besideMr. Murphy. "Guess it's from Uncle Bill. He said he expected to show inDurginville this week."
"And there's trouble at the Corner House," said the cobbler.
"What sort of trouble?"
"I don't rightly know, me bye; save wan of the little gals seems to belost."
"Lost!" gasped Neale anxiously. "Which one? Tess? Dot? Not _Agnes_?"
"Shure," said Con Murphy, "is that little beauty likely to be lost, I axye? No! 'Tis the very littlest wan of all."
"Dot!"
"'Tis so. The other wan--Theresa--was here asking for her beforenoon-time," the cobbler added.
Neale waited for nothing further--not even to read his letter, which heslipped into his pocket; but hurried over the back fence into the rearpremises of the Corner House.
By this time the entire neighborhood was aroused. Luke had called up thepolice station and given a description of Sammy and Dot. The telephonehad been busy most of the time after he and Ruth had returned from theirunsuccessful visit to the canal.
Agnes, red-eyed from weeping, ran at Neale when she saw him coming.
"Oh, Neale O'Neil! Why weren't you here! Get out the auto at once! Letus go and find them. I _know_ they have been carried off--"
"Who's carried them, Aggie?" he demanded. "Brace up. Let's hear all theparticulars of this kidnapping."
"Oh, you can laugh. Don't you dare laugh!" expostulated Agnes, quitebeside herself, and scarcely knowing what she said. "But somebody mustcertainly have stolen Dot."
"That might be," confessed Neale. "But who in the world would want tosteal Sammy? I can't imagine anybody wanting a youngster like him."
"Do be serious if you can, Neale," admonished Ruth, who had likewisebeen weeping, but was critical of the ex-circus boy as usual.
"I am," declared Neale. "Only, let's get down to facts. Who saw themlast and where?"
He listened seriously to the story. His remark at the end might not havebeen very illuminating, but it was sensible.
"Well, then, if Mrs. Kranz and Joe Maroni saw them last, that's theplace to start hunting for the kids."
"Didn't we go there?" demanded Ruth, sharply. "I have just told you--"
"But you didn't find them," Neale said mildly. "Just the same, I seenothing else to do but to make Mrs. Kranz's store the starting point ofthe search. The whole neighborhood there should be searched. Startrunning circles around that corner of Meadow Street."
"Didn't Luke and I go as far as the canal!" and Ruth was still ratherwarm of speech.
"But I guess Neale is right, Ruth," Luke put in. "I don't know thepeople over there or the neighborhood itself. There may have been lotsof hiding places they could have slipped into."
"It's the starting point of the search," Neale declared dogmatically. "Iam going right over there."
"Do get out the auto," cried Agnes, who had uncanny faith in the motorcar as a means of aid in almost any emergency. "And I'm going!"
"Let's all go," Cecile Shepard suggested. "I think we ought to intervieweverybody around that shop. Don't you, Luke?"
"Right, Sis," her brother agreed. "Come on, Miss Ruth. Many hands shouldmake light work. It isn't enough to have the constables on the outlookfor the children. It will soon be night."
Although Ruth could not see that going to Meadow Street again promisedto be of much benefit, save to keep them all occupied, she agreed toNeale's proposal which had been so warmly seconded by Luke.
The boys got out the automobile and the two older Corner House girls,with Cecile, joined them. The car rolled swiftly away from home, leavingTess in tears, Mrs. MacCall, Aunt Sarah, Uncle Rufus and Linda in a muchdisturbed state of mind, and poor Mrs. Pinkney in the very lowest depthsof despair.
They had all had a late luncheon--all save Neale. He had eaten only whathe had put in his pocket when he left for his fishing trip to Pogue Lakethat morning. It was approaching dinner time when they reached MeadowStreet, but none of the anxious young people thought much about thisfact.
The news of the loss of Dot Kenway and Sammy Pinkney had by this timebecome thoroughly known in the neighborhood of the Stower property onMeadow Street. Not only were the tenants of the Corner House girls, butall their friends and acquaintances, interested in the search.
Groups had gathered about the corner where Mrs. Kranz's store and JoeMaroni's fruit stand were situated, discussing the mystery. Suggestionsof dragging the canal had been made; but these were hushed when thekindly people saw Agnes' tear-streaked face and Ruth Kenway's anxiouseyes.
"Oh, my dear!" gasped Mrs. Kranz, her fat face wrinkling with emotion,and dabbing at her eyes while she patted Ruth's shoulder. "If I had onlyknowed vat dem kinder had in der kopfs yedt, oh, my dear! I vould hafmade dem go right avay straight home."
"De leetla padrona allow, I go right away queek and looka fortheem--yes? Maria and my Marouche watcha da stan'--sella da fruit. Yes?"cried Joe Maroni to the oldest Corner House girl.
"If we only--any of us--knew where to search!" Ruth cried.
Neale and Luke got out of the automobile, leaving the girls surroundedby the gossipy, though kindly, women of the neighborhood and the curiouschildren. Neither of the young fellows had any well defined idea as tohow to proceed; but they were not inclined to waste any more time merelycanvassing the misfortune of Dot and Sammy's disappearance.
Neale, being better acquainted with the dwellers in this neighborhood,seized a half-grown youth on the edge of the crowd and put several verypertinent questions to him.
Was there any place right around there that the children might havefallen into--like a cellar, or an excavation! Any place into which theycould have wandered and be unable to get out of, or to make theirsituation known? Had there been an accident of any kind near thisvicinity during the day?
The answers extracted from this street youth, who would, Neale was sure,know of anything odd happening around this section of Milton, werenegative.
"Say, it's been deader'n a doornail around here for a week," confessedthe Meadow Street youth. "Even Dugan's goat hasn't been on therampage. No, sir. I ain't seen an automobile goin' faster than atoad funeral all day. Say, the fastest things we got around here isthe canalboats--believe me!"
"Funny how we always come around to that canal--or the barges on it--inthis inquiry," murmured Luke to Neale O'Neil.
The two had started down the street, but Neale halted in his walk andstared at the young collegian.
"Funny!" he exclaimed suddenly. "No, there isn't anything funny in it atall. The canal. Canalboats. My goodness, Mr. Shepard, there must besomething in it!"
"Water," growled Luke. "And very muddy water at that. I will not believethat the children fell in and were drowned!"
"No!" cried Neale just as vigorously. Then he grinned. "Sammy Pinkney'sbest friends say he will never be drowned, although some of themintimate that there is hemp growing for him. No, Sammy and Dot would notfall into the canal. But, crickey, Shepard! they might have fallen intoa canalboat."
"What do you mean? Have been carried off in one? Kidnapped--actuallykidnapped?"
"Sh! No. Perhaps not. But you never can tell what will happen to kidslike them--nor what they will do. Whew! there's an idea. Sammy wasalways threatening to run away and be a pirate."
"The funny kid!" laughed Luke. "But Dot did not desire such a romanticcareer, I am sure."
"Did you ever find out yet what was in a girl's head?" asked Neale, withan assumption of worldly wisdom very funny in one of his
age andexperience. "You don't know what the smallest of them have in theirnoddles. Maybe if Sammy expressed an intention of being a pirate shewasn't going to be left behind."
He laughed. But he had hit the fact very nearly. And it seemedreasonable to Luke the more he thought of it.
"But on a canalboat?" he said, with lingering doubts.
"Well, it floats on the water, and it's a boat," urged Neale. "Putyourself in the kid's place. If the idea struck you suddenly to be apirate where would you look around here for a pirate ship and water tosail it!"
"Great Peter!" murmured Luke. "The boundless canal!"
"Quite so," rejoined Neale O'Neil, his conviction growing. "Now, on thatbasis, let's ask about the barges that have gone east out from Miltonto-day."
"Why not both ways?" queried Luke, quickly.
"Because most of the canalboats coming west go no farther than theMilton docks; and if the kids had got a ride on one into town, theywould long since have been home. But it is a long journey to the otherend of the canal. Why, it's fifteen or eighteen miles to Durginville."
"How are you going to find out about these boats?"
Neale had a well defined idea by this time. He sent Luke back to the carto pacify the girls as best he could, but without taking time to explainto the collegian his intention in full. Then the boy got to work.
Within half an hour he interviewed the blacksmith and half a dozen otherpeople who lived or worked in sight of the canal. He discovered that,although two barges had gone along to the Milton Lock at the river sidesince before noon, only the old _Nancy Hanks_ had gone in the otherdirection.
He came back to the car and the waiting party in some eagerness.
"Oh, Neale! have you found them!" cried Agnes.
"Of course he hasn't. Do not be so impatient, Aggie," admonished Ruth.
"I have an idea," proclaimed Neale, as he stepped into the car andturned the starting switch.
"A trace of the children?" Cecile asked.
"It's worth looking into," said Neale with much more confidence than hereally felt. "We'll run up to the first lock and see if the lock-keepernoticed anybody save the captain and his little girl on that barge thatwent through this afternoon. Maybe Dot got friendly with the girl andshe and Sammy went along for a ride on the _Nancy Hanks_. They say thisBill Quigg that owns that canalboat isn't any brighter than the lawallows, and he might not think of the kids' folks being scared."
"Oh! it doesn't seem reasonable," Ruth said, shaking her head.
But she did not forbid Neale to make the journey to the lock. The roadwas good all the way to Durginville and it was a highway the CornerHouse girls had not traveled in their automobile. At another time theywould have all enjoyed the trip immensely in the cool of the evening.And Neale drove just as fast as the law allowed--if not a little faster.
Agnes loved to ride fast in the auto; but this was one occasion when shewas too worried to enjoy the motion. As they rushed on over the road,and through the pleasant countryside, they were all rather silent. Everypassing minute added to the burden of anxiety upon the minds of the twosisters and Neale; nor were the visitors lacking in sympathy.
After all, little folk like Sammy and Dot are in great danger when outin the world alone, away from the shelter of home. So many, manyaccidents may happen.
Therefore it was a very serious party indeed that finally stopped atBumstead Lock to ask if the lock-keeper or his wife, who lived in a tinycottage and cultivated a small plot of ground near by, had noticed anypassengers upon Cap'n Bill Quigg's barge.
"On the _Nancy Hanks_?" repeated the lock-keeper. "I should say 'no'!young lady," shaking his head emphatically at Ruth's question. "Why, whoever would sail as a passenger on that old ramshackle thing? I reckonit'll fall to pieces some day soon and block traffic on the canal."
Ruth, disappointed, would not have persevered. But Luke Shepard asked:
"Is there much traffic on the canal?"
"Well, sometimes there is and sometimes there ain't. But I see all thatgoes through here, you may believe."
"How many canalboats went toward Durginville to-day?" the collegianinquired.
"Why--lemme see," drawled the lock-keeper thoughtfully, as though therewas so much traffic that it was a trouble to remember all the boats."Why, I cal'late about _one_. Yes, sir, one. That was the _NancyHanks_."
"She ought to be a fast boat at that," muttered Neale O'Neil. "_NancyHanks_ was some horse."
"So that was the only one?" Luke persevered. "And you spoke with Cap'nQuigg, did you?"
"With Bill Quigg?" snapped the lock-keeper, with some asperity. "I guessnot! I ain't wastin' my time with the likes of him."
"Oh-ho," said Luke, while his friends looked interested. "You don'tapprove of the owner of the _Nancy Hanks_?"
"I should hope not. I ain't got no use for him."
"Then he is a pretty poor citizen, I take it?"
"I cal'late he's the poorest kind we got. He ain't even wuth sendin' tojail. He'd gone long ago if he was. No. I've no use for Cap'n Bill."
"But you saw there was nobody with him on the boat--no children?"
"Only that gal of his."
"No others?"
"Wal, I dunno. I tell you I didn't stop none to have any doin's with_them_. I done my duty and that's all. I ain't required by law to gaswith all the riffraff that sails this here canal."
"I believe you," agreed Luke mildly. He looked at Neale and grinned."Not very conclusive, is it?" he asked.
"Not to my mind. Bet the kids were on there with this little girl hespeaks of," muttered Neale.
"Oh, do you believe it, Neale?" gasped Agnes, leaning over the back ofthe seat.
"I am sure we are much obliged to you, sir," Ruth said, sweetly, as theengine began to roar again.
"What's up, anyway?" asked the crabbed lock-keeper. "You got somethingon that Bill Quigg?"
"Can't tell, Mister," Neale said seriously. "You ask him about it whenhe comes back."
"Now, Neale, you've started something," declared Ruth, as the automobilesped away. "You just see if you haven't."