CHAPTER XXVII—WE ARE CAUGHT
There were three men in that car and as soon as they caught up with us, I knew they were sheriffs or detectives or something like that, on account of their being big and kind of bossy looking.
They got out and came up to our car and one of them said, very loud and gruff, “What are you doing with that car?”
“Why, we’re just sitting in it laughing,” Harry said. “Here’s another; why is a Ford like a poisonous snake? Give it up? Because it has a rattle. Let’s tell some more.”
“Who was that you throwed out of this car?” the man shouted right in Harry’s face. All the while the other two men were down in the ditch looking for the dummy. I guess it must have gone down in the water, anyway, they couldn’t find it.
Harry said, “Oh, that was really your fault; should be more careful when you shoot at random. That was a very famous personage—Mr. R. T. Sandbanks.”
Gee, I could hardly keep a straight face. The men just stood there staring, and Harry just sat there with his arms folded on the steering wheel, smiling just as nice as could be. Poor little Skinny was clinging to his arm. Pee-wee and Grove and I sat on the back seat trying not to laugh. Those men looked at us as if they thought it was funny for boy scouts to be there, but we should worry about them. Our consciences were clear, only we were hungry.
“Look here, you,” the big man said to Harry; “you got to explain your movements—and your actions.”
“Our actions can’t be explained,” Harry said; “we’re all crazy. But anything we can do to accommodate you——”
All the while the other two men were poking around in the creek with sticks. The big man shook his finger right in Harry’s face and said, “You’re the feller that was in Wade’s Hotel in Utica with a car with a New York license. You were seen there. You had some stolen property in that car. You’ve changed your license plate since then. Been in Crystal Falls ain’t you? Get out of there, you kids, and let me look under that seat. What are you doing with a crowd of young boys in this car, anyway?”
Harry said, “My goodness, what a lot of questions! You’re a regular questionnaire, aren’t you? Get up, boys.”
We got up and he dug around under the back seat, but didn’t find anything. Then he dug in the side pockets and, good night, there were our “papers” as Pee-wee called them.
He said, “What’s all this, eh?”
Harry said, “Those? Oh, those are just some papers. One of them is a letter, and let’s see, those two are newspaper articles and the other is a description of a tree. Do you like trees? We’re crazy about trees.”
Oh, boy, you should have seen that man. He read those papers over and scowled. “Train robbed, huh?” he said. “Shootin’ goin’ on, huh? Now, who are you, anyway, and who did you throw out of this car, and where did you get this car, and where did you get this here license plate that you’re using?”
Harry said, “Well, it’s a long story and really it would be a shame to tell it, unless we were all sitting around the camp-fire. We’re a band of adventurers and we’re on our way to see what will happen next. Our specialties are murder, burglary, treasure hunting and food, when we can get it. Going to be warm to-day, don’t you think so?”
Honest, that man hardly knew what to say, he was so flabbergasted. I guess he must have felt like Alice in Wonderland, hey? With men being thrown out and disappearing and nice little boy scouts instead of burglars, and papers that he couldn’t make out the meaning of at all. He just looked around kind of puzzled, and all the while Harry sat there with his arms folded on the wheel—oh, boy, I could hardly keep a straight face.
Pretty soon the man said, “Well, young feller, you got to give an explanation of your whereabouts. You were seen in Utica with this car and you had some valuables in it. A porter in the hotel seen them under the seat. You went away and later passed through Utica with this same car. And what did you do with that stuff? And where’d you get your plate changed? Just let’s see your card.”
Harry showed him his driver’s card. Gee whiz, I wanted Harry to tell him that scouts don’t get mixed up with burglaries and things like that, but he didn’t bother to tell him anything. I guess he thought that anybody ought to know that much. Cracky, I wouldn’t be a burglar.
Then he walked all around the car, sizing it up; I guess he was hunting for some kind of clews or other. Then he whispered with the other men. And all the while, Harry just sat there smiling.
I said, “Why, don’t you tell them how it was?”
“They wouldn’t believe us,” Harry said; “don’t you know you can’t tell a detective anything? You’ve got to let him crack his head against a stone wall.”
“Will we get put in jail?” Skinny asked.
“Guess not,” Harry said; “my one regret is, that Brent isn’t here. He’d enjoy this. Evidently these fellows belong in Utica and they’re a little behind on their information. I rather prefer our old friend, the constable.”
Pretty soon the big man left the other two poking around in the water, and came over and said, “I’ll ride into Lurin with you. You’ll have to go before a justice you fellers. You got to explain your movements. Was that man you threw out of the car, dead?”
Harry said, “Oh, very dead. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody so dead before.”
“Well, then, you killed him,” the man said; “’twasn’t no shot of ours. How’d that man come by his death, huh?”
“He was thrown off a cliff,” Harry said.
“Well, we’ll find out who threw him off,” the man said.
Harry said, “Oh, that’s easy; fifteen cents and the war tax, and you’ll know the whole story. Climb over in back Alf, and let this gentleman sit here.”
Just then one of the other men came dragging poor Mr. Ragtime Sandbanks after him. He looked awful silly—I mean the man. The poor old dummy was all soaked and his legs and arms flopped this way and that. Harry looked, but didn’t seem especially interested.
“So that’s it, is it?” the big man said.
“That’s it,” Harry said.
“A dummy!” the man just what-do-you-call-it—you know—ejaculated.
“Oh, don’t call yourself names,” Harry said.
Jimmetty, you should have seen that man.