"MacLester and Worth are working some place. You can pretty near count on that. It's their steady system," whispered Pickton, as with Gaines and Perth he fell into line before the ticket window, then a minute later joined the rush through the gate.

And "There they go in!" whispered Paul Jones to Phil, his smile, always expansive, becoming almost alarmingly broad. "They saw us in line and never noticed us sidestep to the window," he added in triumphant manner.

"They think we went inside all right," Phil answered. "Trouble is we don't know whether they'll find out we didn't. It's the only drawback to this scheme. They'll be suspicious if they discover we aren't there.

Only thing for it is quick action."

Already the two boys were walking rapidly down a side street. Turning the corner they reached the car line a few blocks from the ball park.

From a neighborhood grocer's establishment Phil telephoned instructions to Billy Worth in waiting at Knight & Wilder's. Then, while Paul boarded the first city-bound car, he returned to the ball game.

Very careful was Mr. Philip Way to take note before going inside that Gaines' Roadster was still alongside the curb. Also careful was he to station himself where he could see all who came and went. In short, he was so occupied in these and similar matters concerning the whereabouts of that eminently select party of three, self styled as Chosen, that his thoughts were a long way from the baseball game now in progress. But then the game was one-sided and slow; maybe that was the reason Phil evinced so little interest.

With others of the great throng Way left the grounds when the very lame exhibition was over. A good many were growling about "a mighty poor article of ball," and "village hay t.o.s.s.e.rs;" but Phil made no complaint.

The game had served one purpose almost as well as the decisive battle of a pennant series could have done. He even laughed, though inwardly, as he overheard Fred Perth say, "Why, there's Way, now!"

As if quite by chance Phil was walking past the Roadster as its owner and his friends prepared to turn that lumbering vehicle homeward. Even when Gaines sang out, "Oh, I say! The walking's pretty good!" which comment was plainly meant for his ears, he made no answer beyond a deprecating wave of his hand. Not even did he look around--at that time, but he did a.s.sure himself of the direction the Trio took and that their manner was that of unsuspecting confidence.

Or perhaps Paul Jones' expression, as Phil told all about it afterward, fits the situation better. "There never was a better case of asleep at the switch," said Paul. And maybe he was right.

Was it merely a coincidence that the Trio in the Roadster twice pa.s.sed Way's home before supper and again just afterward? Once Phil was on the porch. Once he was loitering near the low, green and yellow garage, now so empty and bare but for the workbench and tools of many kinds, and the desk in one corner.

Later, when the long June day was over, when the sun had set and the good-night twittering of the birds sounded unusually loud and clear as darkness gathered, Way busied himself inside the shed. The big front doors were wide open, to admit the air, no doubt. All three electric lamps in the small building were burning bright.

If Freddy Perth had only known it, in fact, he could have seen from the street that the automobile was not in the home garage at all and that Phil was. He might have saved himself the walk through the dusty alley, and still have made the same report to Gaines and Pickton, the substance of which was that the Thirty was still at Knight & Wilder's and that its owners were at their respective homes. At least Way was for he had seen him.

But if Perth or Pickton or Soapy Gaines, himself, or all three, for that matter, had chanced to board a certain limited suburban trolley car an hour later, the same evening, they might have been surprised to discover that although Phil _had_ been at home he was not at home now. And, also, if appearances were not altogether deceptive, that he had no intention of being again at home in the immediate future. For an extra large suitcase was on the floor before him and a motor coat draped the back of his seat.

"Round trip?" said the conductor when Phil asked the fare to Littleton.

"No, one way," he answered.

"Forty cents," the conductor said. "Ain't bad for twenty-five miles.

Cheaper'n automobile travel, at that."

"Oh, cheaper, possibly," said Phil Way, "but--"

CHAPTER IV

SAFELY AWAY

"They're going to go soon, if they go at all. Likely would have started to-day, as MacLester said, if their machine hadn't played out," said Tom Pickton, when on this Monday evening he and Perth were leaving Gaines at his home. "We'll watch 'em to-morrow, all right!" declared Mr. Pickton earnestly.

And now if Pick is as good as his word, if he and his fellow conspirators are really watching the Auto Boys, as another day comes, it is an interesting and busy scene that falls upon their gaze.

Phil Way is looking over every part of the Thirty's oiling system. "It's too bad we had to put the faithful old machine in the humiliating plight of being towed in, even if there never was a thing the matter with her," says he.

"And you ought to've seen Phil! Never saw him appear so broken up!

Honest, I just hurt from holding in when the three of them drove by us, as if they thought they were 'it,' hollering out, 'Give ye a lift?' in that sarcastic way of Pick's! And when they were 'way past, maybe I didn't laugh!"

Paul Jones was the speaker, strapping a suitcase to the car's running board as he talked. Billy Worth and Dave MacLester were occupied in the rearrangement of a lot of other baggage, the canvas of a tent among the rest, in the tonneau. The car stood just outside a large frame building in the rear of the Yorkshire House, the princ.i.p.al hotel of Littleton.

A combined livery stable and garage was this frame structure, if one judged by appearances, for it housed both horse-drawn vehicles and automobiles. Of the latter there were three--two runabouts and a light touring car. The Auto Boys' machine appeared to have been kept here over night. By their further conversation it was evident, too, that the young gentlemen themselves had remained over night in the Yorkshire House, and into that hostelry they repaired a few minutes later for an exceptionally early breakfast.

"Too early for any earthly use. I don't see no sense in it," the not fastidiously tidy cook of the establishment stated at least five or six times to the maid who waited on table; and who, it may be added, quite agreed with him until she found a nickel tied in the corner of each napkin after the very early guests had left. As a matter of fact, it was exactly five o'clock.

And now again, if Mr. Thomas Pickton, still sound asleep in his bed at home, had been watching the Auto Boys, as he had stated would be faithfully done to-day, he would have saved himself and friends a rather humiliating disappointment at a later time. But, as has also been plainly indicated, Pick, with all his hawk-like eyes, saw nothing of what was taking place, and as Freddy Perth and Soapy Gaines were not a whit more wide awake than he at this hour of five A. M., the well-laden Thirty with its four owners aboard purred merrily westward, farther and farther from the small town of appropriate name, and farther yet from Lannington.

"Guess they have to get up in the morning some to get ahead of us,"

observed Mr. Paul Jones, with a sigh of satisfaction. And it would certainly appear that he was right, though he did rub his eyes considerably and though his sigh stretched out to the extent of a great yawn only a few seconds later.

Thus was the _Auto Boys' Quest_ under way at last. Away back at the great, empty farmhouse where Grandfather Beaman once lived, the first plans for this trip had been laid. Those of you who have read _The Auto Boys' Outing_ will recall the circ.u.mstances. You will remember the days of zestful fun and tranquil rest the lads had, following the solution of the mystery of the strange characters on Grandfather Beaman's wooden leg, the disclosure of Jonas Tagg's evil designs and the discovery of the ident.i.ty of "Little Mystery."

And do you recollect the pleasant evenings on the old front door step?

There it was that the trip to the great Ship woods was first suggested, and there it was that the solemn agreement, making the whole expedition a secret, was entered into.

Going back a little farther, it will not be necessary to remind readers of _The Auto Boys_, the first story of this series, that for purely business reasons the four friends had made it a practice not to talk publicly of their joint ventures. Even the "Retreat" in Gleason's Ravine, was known to few outside the immediate families of the boys.

Just how they had managed, as the "Young American Contract Company," to acquire their automobile and start the pa.s.senger service to Star Lake, with all the exciting adventures resulting therefrom, was, likewise, a subject the young men did not publicly discuss, although of course the main facts had in time become quite commonly known.

One reason the four chums were so successful in confining within the limits of their respective households and to their very nearest friends knowledge of their plans and undertakings was that there was nothing of the braggart in any of them. Phil Way, usually the leader in their various ventures, whether for purposes of fun or business, was a tall, slender, brown-haired, clear-eyed and mild-mannered chap. At the time of the history herein related he is well past fifteen years of age. His father is a physician, by no means rich, but in very comfortable circ.u.mstances.

Billy Worth, fun-loving and jolly, but an earnest young fellow, too, is a little younger than Phil and in general appearance quite his opposite, being short and stout. Yet let none suppose that that stocky frame of his carries an ounce of anything but bone, muscle and good, red blood--good, red blood that glows in his cheeks, and helps to place that alert, snappy expression in his twinkling brown eyes. So much for William Worth, Junior. William Worth, Senior, it may be stated, is engaged in machinery manufacturing.

A member of this quartette of friends I am sure you will like is Paul Jones--slight, slender, audacious. He has been in long trousers less than a year. He wears his motor cap far back on his head and rakishly low on one side. His sandy hair, thus quite prominently exposed to view, is in a more or less tousled condition a greater part of the time. Of a care-free disposition is young Mr. Jones, however, and the rumpled state of his hair bothers him not at all. It was brushed this morning, and, "Goodness, gracious! Can you expect a man's hair always to be just so?"

Why, probably not. Then again, a good deal depends on the "man."

Forgive a great deal to Paul. If he lacks something in general refinement and polish as compared to the other boys, it is because his advantages have not equaled theirs. Being an orphan, he has missed much his friends have received, though Mrs. Wilby, his sister, and John Wilby, her husband, have given the otherwise homeless lad the best their limited time and means afford.

Dave MacLester is of still another type. Nearly as tall as Phil, he is much heavier. He lacks the power of quick perception and quick movements common to his three friends, but outranks any one of them in strength.

He is a dark-haired chap of Scotch descent and if he is just a little slow, he is at least sure. His fault, if fault it may be called, is a certain moodiness of disposition, apt to reveal itself at times in his hopeless, pessimistic view of things. Maybe it would be more accurate to describe this characteristic as his misfortune. He is at fault in regard to it only to the extent that he neglects or fails to strive against his naturally gloomy or irritated mental condition, and, so eventually grow entirely away from it.

One interesting fact about all the boys is the bond of union among them.

Petty differences have arisen scores of times, of course; wordy disputes have occurred less frequently; but for a long, long time the four have been almost inseparable, both in work and in play, their unwritten motto being, "the best interests of one are the best interests of all." Unselfishly every pleasure is shared, and uncomplainingly in every task and duty each fellow does his share.

The escape from the watchful eyes of Soapy Gaines and his followers with the car and its load of baggage for this present expedition was brought about only because each one of the four worked in faithful harmony with the general plan. What this plan was, has already become apparent.

That the towing in of the Thirty to Knight & Wilder's garage was but a pretense to throw the Trio off their guard, you have probably guessed from the beginning. It would be interesting, perhaps, to hear at length how Billy and Dave rushed the automobile to the home garage upon receiving word by 'phone that the Gaines party had been lured into the ball game and forgetfulness, but more important matters are waiting.

Let this part of the history be summed up briefly, then, by recording only the bare facts that, with the help of Paul, who did not remain at the baseball park, it will be remembered, Worth and MacLester loaded the automobile with camp outfit and baggage and were safely beyond the city all within two hours.

By a circuitous route, avoiding the streets most used for motor traffic, the three reached the country roads. Here, too, they chose the least traveled thoroughfares until fully ten miles had been placed between them and Lannington.

Even by the longer route, Littleton, nearly forty miles distant, might have been reached before dark; but to attract the least possible notice they lingered in little frequented roads, and ran quietly into the Yorkshire House garage and stable just after sundown. So was the car, laden down with the evidences of an extensive expedition, and well calculated to attract much notice, housed for the night.

The three boys believed they had been observed by not one person likely to mention having seen them--at least to anyone from whom, directly or indirectly, the Trio would obtain intelligence of their movements. They told Phil as much, and with evident satisfaction, when they met him upon his arrival by suburban trolley car, later in the evening.--And now another day had come. The Auto Boys were in the best of spirits as they left the lately risen sun and Littleton in their rear.