CHAPTER II
JERRY EXPLAINS
“Sit still!” yelled Ned, grasping his chum by the arm.
“But we’re going to smash, I tell you!”
Bob sank back in his seat with a thud, for Ned had forcibly pulled himby the coat.
“Look out!” yelled Andy, adding his alarm to the others.
“Eh? What is it? Oh, another car!” cried Jerry, and, for the first time,he seemed to be aware that there was danger from his thoughtlessness intaking the wrong side of the road.
The driver of the other car sent out a strident blast from his electricsiren, and crowded his machine as far over to the other side aspossible. But a high bank afforded very little leeway.
“Look out where you’re going!” the chauffeur yelled, his angry voiceaccentuating the warning of the horn.
Jerry Hopkins seemed to come to life in an instant. His absent-mindednessleft him in a flash, and his strong hands turned the steering wheelrapidly.
So suddenly did he shift the direction of his car that it skidded, and,for an instant slid along on two tires. Then, with another quick shiftof the wheel, the steersman brought it back on the proper course.
The two machines passed safely, but, so narrow was the space betweenthem, the thickness of one’s hand would have sufficed to fill it.
Then, in a swirl of dust, the other machine passed on, the dirt-cloudserving to hide the indignant glances of the occupants. Jerry broughthis car to a stop with a whine of the hastily-applied brakes.
“Say, I didn’t see that fellow coming,” declared Jerry, turning tospeak to his chums in the tonneau.
“You didn’t see him!” cried Ned. “Why, he was right in front of you,and on the proper side of the road, too. You were off. Say, what’s thematter with you Jerry, anyhow?”
The tall lad did not answer for a moment. Instead, he slowly got downout of the car, and walked over to a spring that bubbled out of a rockat the side of the road.
“Wait until I get a drink,” he said. “I’m dry.”
Ned and Bob looked at one another.
“What do you make of it?” asked Ned, in a low voice, as Jerry leanedover to drink.
“I’m sure I don’t know,” was the answer of the stout lad. “He’s beenacting queer and absent-minded for the last few days. He seems to beworrying about something.”
“I wonder what it can be?” ventured Ned.
“Let’s ask him,” suggested Bob. “Maybe we can help him.”
They spoke in louder tones now, for Andy, who had been sitting besideJerry, had also alighted to get a drink at the spring.
“Maybe he wouldn’t want us ‘butting-in,’” remarked Ned.
“Well, something’s got to be done,” declared Bob, with a sigh. “I’m notgoing to ride, and have him steer like that. He nearly ran over a dog awhile back, and now he almost sends us into another car. Something sureis wrong. Jerry has something on his mind, and we ought to offer tohelp him.”
“Well, maybe we ought,” responded Ned, thoughtfully.
And while the two chums are thus debating as to whether or not theyought to interfere sufficiently in Jerry’s affairs to offer to helphim, I will take a few moments to tell my new readers something of theboys and of the previous books in this series in which my heroes havefigured.
Bob Baker, son of Andrew Baker, a rich banker; Ned Slade, whose father,Aaron Slade, was the proprietor of a large department store; and JerryHopkins, the only son of a well-to-do widow, were the three “motorboys” with whom we are concerned. They lived in the town of Cresville,not far from Boston, and had been chums and companions ever since theywere youngsters. They had been “lost” together, they had played ball onthe vacant lots, they had gone swimming and fishing in one another’scompany, and, when they grew older, they went bicycling together.
It was the bicycles that gained for them the name “motor boys,” for itwas through the winning of a bicycle race that one of them gained amotorcycle as a prize, and in the first book of the series, entitled“The Motor Boys,” you may read of this thrilling contest.
But the motor boys were not content with one motorcycle, nor withwinning one race. They obtained an automobile, and made a thrillingtrip overland, afterward going to Mexico, where they located a buriedcity, coming home across the great plains.
Many and thrilling were the adventures our friends had on land, and nota few dangers encompassed them, some being due to the evil doings ofNoddy Nixon and Bill Berry, two bad characters.
But action ashore was not sufficient for the motor boys. They wereable to obtain a motor boat, and in the fifth volume of this series,entitled “The Motor Boys Afloat,” is related their adventures in thatstaunch craft. They had strenuous times on the Atlantic, in the strangewaters of the Florida Everglades, and on the Pacific.
As might be expected, having, in a manner, conquered the problems ofthe land in their automobile, and of the water in their motor boat, theboys sighed, like Alexander, for new worlds. They found one in the air,and though they themselves were a little doubtful of their ability tonavigate an aeroplane they did not hesitate to try.
In the ninth book, “The Motor Boys in the Clouds,” I had the pleasureof relating to you their adventures in their motorship. They flew overthe Rockies, and over a part of the ocean, and again, taking wing, theywent in search of a lost fortune.
Hovering over the border between the United States and Canada, themotor boys were able to help Uncle Sam capture some daring smugglers,and hardly had they finished that thrilling work than new activitiespresented themselves. The volume immediately preceding this one isentitled “The Motor Boys Under the Sea.”
While out in their motorship _Comet_, one day, the boys saw floating onthe waters of Massachusetts Bay a strange object which at first theythought was a whale. It turned out to be a submarine, however, and whenthe boys encountered it, later, in a terrific storm, and were takenaboard the strange craft, being kept virtually prisoners, they realizedthat they were about to pass through some strange scenes.
Whether they did or not I will leave to the decision of those of youwho have read the book. Suffice it to say that, eventually, Dr. Klauss,the commander of the submarine, though endeavoring in his insane furyto make an end of them all, was overpowered, and our friends reachedsafety.
A winter of comparative inactivity followed the lively times in thesubmarine, and now spring had come once more. The motor boys hadmade no plans for their vacation, but they had talked, more or lessindefinitely, of a long trip to be taken, partly by auto, and partlyaboard their new motor boat. Nothing had been settled, however.
The three, having no other engagement this Saturday afternoon, had goneto the ball game, for Cresville boasted of a good semi-professionalteam, and it was on their way back from this contest that I haveintroduced my new readers to them.
“I’m going to make the break, and ask Jerry what ails him,” decidedNed, as he watched his tall chum straighten up after taking a longdrink at the spring.
“Yes, maybe it will be best,” assented Bob. “He surely isn’t himself.He’s been acting queerly for nearly a week. He seems to be in a sort ofdream.”
“That’s right,” agreed Ned. “Well, maybe he won’t like me ‘butting-in’on him, but we’ve been chums too long to stand off, and not help himwhen he needs it.”
Andy Rush, who had begged a ride with the three friends, had just rundown the road in pursuit of a rabbit, so he was not within sound of thevoices of the three chums. Andy was an excitable chap, who never didany one thing very long at a time. He was rather a “fly-away,” but Ned,Bob and Jerry liked him for all that.
“Feel better?” asked Ned, as his tall chum approached.
“Yes, that was fine water. But there wasn’t anything the matter withme,” replied Jerry, quickly, as he sensed Ned’s words. “What do youmean?”
“What do I mean? Well, Jerry, old man,” spoke Ned, “it’s evident toboth Bob and me that something is wrong with you. It isn’t like you
to have such a near-collision as the one we just avoided, and also tonearly run over a dog, as you did a while back, isn’t a bit like you.Neither is it to see you so absent-minded.
“Now we don’t want to pry into your affairs, Jerry,” went on Ned, witha look at Bob, “but if we can help you--why, you know we’re only toowilling. Is there anything we can do?”
“For we’re sure something’s wrong,” put in Bob. “Suppose we go to thatrestaurant in Blairtown and eat. I can always talk better when I eat,”added Bob, innocently enough.
“The same old Chunky,” murmured Jerry, with a smile. Then his mannergrew more serious.
“Understand!” exclaimed Ned, quickly, as he noted the change in hischum’s face, “we don’t want to ‘butt-in,’ but we would like to helpyou. Are you in trouble, Jerry? Noddy Nixon isn’t bothering you again;is he? And Dr. Klauss hasn’t turned up again with his submarine; hashe?”
“No! Oh, no! It isn’t anything as serious as that,” and Jerry smiled.
“Well?” spoke Ned, questioningly.
Jerry hesitated for a moment, and looked up and down the road, asthough to make sure no one could hear what he was going to say.
“Fellows,” began the tall lad, “I sure do appreciate your interest inmy affairs. And I don’t consider it ‘butting-in,’ either. I suppose Ihave been acting queerly, the last few days, but----”
“Queerly! I should say you had!” cried Ned. “It’s all right, old man,”he added, with a laugh, “no offense you know, but if you call it‘queer’ to nearly smash us up a couple of times, I guess we’ll agreewith you. Now then, out with it, and if we can help you, why, you knowyou don’t have to ask twice. Let her go, as Andy Rush would say,” andhe glanced toward that distant youth.
“Well, I don’t know that it’s so very important, or serious,” resumedJerry. “But, the truth of the matter is, I’ve been doing a lot ofhard thinking of late, and I suppose it’s that which has made me seemabsent-minded.”
“There wasn’t any ‘seeming’ about it,” put in Bob. “It was the realarticle.”
“Yes, I guess it was,” admitted Jerry. “I really couldn’t tell you,now, who won that ball game, and as for nearly running into that auto,I didn’t see it until the last second. I was thinking of somethingelse.”
“Of what?” asked Ned.
“Well, business matters,” explained Jerry. “You know my mother ownsconsiderable property. Some of it is real estate, and more is in bondsand mortgages. Of late some of her investments have turned out poorly.”
“That’s too bad!” exclaimed Ned. “She ought to see my father. He mighthelp her.”
“Oh, well, I don’t think it is as serious as all that,” said Jerry.“But she thinks she will have to sell some of her real estate, andthere’s where the tangle comes in.”
“I don’t see what sort of a tangle it can be,” spoke Ned. “We all knowher land is quite valuable.”
“That’s just it,” exclaimed Jerry. “If she had received an offer forsome of her town lots, or for some of her other real estate holdingsthat plainly show their worth, I wouldn’t think so much of it. But it’sabout that old strip of swamp land she owns.”
“What, down in Ryson’s swamp?” asked Ned, in surprise.
“That’s the place,” answered Jerry. “She owns quite a strip there,and Noddy Nixon’s father owns lands on one side, and someone else onthe other. Mother’s land is a sort of narrow tongue between two otherparcels. She never thought it was worth anything, but the other day shereceived an offer for it, and at a price that made her open her eyes,though relatively it wasn’t so much.”
“Well, I don’t see any bad luck in that,” remarked Bob. “If she can geta good price for the land, why doesn’t she take it?”
“That’s just the point,” resumed Jerry. “Why should such a comparativelyhigh price be offered for such seemingly worthless land? It’s that whichhas me guessing, fellows. I’m trying to find out what the underlyingmotive is, and that’s what made me so absent-minded of late. Now, I’vetold you!”