CHAPTER XVIII A DISAPPEARANCE
"Well, you boys certainly know how to live! This is great!"
Thus exclaimed Mr. Brockhurst as he sat in the shade of a big tree on the edge of the country road, eating lunch with Dick and his chums. It had been cooked in the little "kitchen" of the auto, but as it was rather warm they had elected to eat out in the open air, and a board, laid across two stumps, served excellently as a table. Paul, whose turn it was to cook, also acted as waiter.
"This isn't half bad," admitted Innis, reaching for some more chicken sandwiches and olives.
"You'd have to go a good way to find anything better, in my opinion," spoke the lame man. "I never realized before what chances there were in a big touring car. It's better than traveling by train, for you can stop and start when you like. And with the outfit you have here you're independent of almost anything—even the weather."
"Yes, we can close ourselves up in the car," said Dick, "and rain or snow, up to a certain limit, won't bother us."
"I wish I was going all the way with you," went on the lame man. "But I've got my business to attend to. If this deal in Hazelton goes through I may be able to have a car like yours. It certainly is a dandy!"
"Perhaps we are delaying here too long," suggested Dick.
"No, I've got considerable lee-way yet," said Mr. Brockhurst. "I can meet my man in time, and this lunch is too good to miss. By the way, there's a fine view to be had from the hill over there. Suppose we stroll over and take it in. It won't take long, and it's well worth seeing."
"As long as we'll be in time for your appointment, all right," assented Dick. "Our time is our own."
"Don't worry about me. Come along," and, lunch being over, Mr. Brockhurst led the way along a path that went up a rather steep hill.
"Do you live around here?" asked Paul, wondering how the lame man knew of the view so far out from Buffalo.
"No, not exactly. I used to, when I was a boy, but the city is my home now. I don't often get out into the country, and when I do I like to take advantage of it."
"That's the idea," said Dick.
They walked on, chatting about various subjects. Dick had taken a certain electric switch out of his car, without which it was impossible to start it, so he had no worries about leaving the auto in the roadway unprotected.
"Are we walking too fast for you?" inquired Dick, and his two chums, who happened to be looking at him, thought the young millionaire regarded their visitor with a rather strange glance.
"Oh, no, I can keep up this pace," he said, though he seemed to be walking more and more slowly. "I did give my ankle a bad twist," he went on, "and I'll have it looked to as soon as we get to Hazelton. It isn't much farther to the top of the hill now."
They had gone only a few steps more, when, with an exclamation of pain, Mr. Brockhurst came to a halt. His face was screwed up in an expression of anxiety.
"I'm afraid I'd better not go on any further," he said, sitting down on a grassy place. "I don't want to strain my foot too much. I'll wait for you here. Go on and get a look at that view. You wouldn't want to miss it. Lots of people go miles out of their way for it. I'll just sit here and rest."
"Are you sure you'll be all right?" asked Dick.
"Oh, sure. Go ahead. Don't mind me. I'll wait until you come back. And there's a good spring on that hill. It's supposed to have some medicinal virtue. I don't take much stock in that, but I know it's good and cold, for I used to drink there when I was a boy."
"I'm going to have some," asserted Paul. "I'm as dry as codfish."
Though the boys somewhat regretted not having Mr. Brockhurst to accompany them, the thought of a cool drink at the summit of the hill hurried them on, for the day was warm.
They looked back to see the lame man still sitting on the grass plot, gazing up at them. He waved his hand in a friendly fashion.
"Say, this is some view!" exclaimed Paul, as they reached the summit.
"I should say yes!" assented Dick. "I'm glad we came up."
Down before them, rolling in a series of gentle slopes, was a vast extent of country. There was a great plain, and, in the distance, mountains arising, blue and purple in the haze of the summer day.
"It's magnificent!" murmured Innis. "It makes a fellow feel—well, like poetry," he finished for want of something better to say.
"It makes me more thirsty to see that water," added Paul, pointing to a little stream, that, like a silver ribbon, made its tortuous way through a distant green meadow.
"Let's look for that spring," suggested Dick, after a few minutes of gazing at the view, which was really superb.
But the spring was not as easy to find as they had supposed. They finally located a small brook, and, tracing it back some distance, they came upon the spring. It justified all that Mr. Brockhurst had said of it, and the boys drank long and deep.
"It's got a queer taste," said Dick.
"That's the medicinal virtues of it, I guess," laughed Innis.
"Well, it's all right when you're thirsty," assented Paul, "for it's good and cold, but I'd have to get used to it before I'd want it steady. Well, shall we go back?"
"Might as well," said Dick, looking at his watch. "We've been here half an hour. Mr. Brockhurst will be getting tired."
They started down the slope, and, when they got to a point where they should have seen the lame man he was not there.
"He's gone!" cried Innis.
"Probably got tired of waiting, and went back to the auto," spoke Dick. "He'll be waiting for us."
But his chums thought they detected a strange note in his voice.
The three hurried on, and when the auto came in sight they peered eagerly toward it for a sight of their visitor.
"Maybe he's inside," said Paul, when they could not see him.
"Maybe," said Dick—rather grimly.
They reached the car. The side door was open, but there was no sign of the lame man.
"He's gone!" gasped Paul.
"I thought that was his game," said the young millionaire, quietly.