The two on the ground hesitated no longer. Jake did not dare look back; he had all he could do to keep up with the racing man at his side.
“Sherlock’s game, all right!” he managed to gasp. “He came through fine; I never thought he had it in him! Think he can hold them?”
Through his mind flashed the thought that already their party was scattered; Jerry was gone, Heaven alone knew where, and now Sherlock had sacrificed himself so that the others might have an instant’s start. Good old Sherlock! He had helped them after all—— They burst through the last of the trees, into a spreading pasture land.
“One chance in a hundred!” Burk was crying through clenched teeth. “We’ll fool them yet! If we can only get as far as Lake Wallis—— Cross water! Now, son, don’t try to say anything more now!” The two racing fugitives dashed through the grass in the hot sunlight. “Save your breath! We’ve got to run now as we never ran before!”
CHAPTER XVII
JERRY GETS A RIDE
Jerry had awakened about eight o’clock, scribbled his brief note, and crept from the hut in the woods without disturbing any of his sleeping companions. His mind was made up. Burk had said that Wallistown was not far away, and there he could certainly purchase the food they needed so badly. Since they were forced to hide here until nightfall, his brief desertion would not hold up their march. And he knew they would be hungry. He was hungry already. The keen, fresh morning air whipped up his appetite as he hiked steadily down the trail. Birds were flashing through the dewy thickets about him, caroling their morning-songs; not a cloud hung in the sky.
He came to an old moss-covered stone fence, crossed over, and found himself in a lane, lined with tall elder bushes, with dark rich clusters of small berries hanging among the leaves. A rich find! He filled his mouth with the bitter-tasting fruit, which stained his hands a deep purple as he ate.
Feeling refreshed by this woodsy breakfast, he decided to follow the lane. It led him half a mile, coming out at a white frame farmhouse where a woman was washing clothes in the yard. She looked up as he passed and watched him strangely, but said nothing, and he walked on to the road beyond. This was a dirt-covered highway which evidently led in the direction he wished to take. He swung along steadily through rich farm-lands and pastures where cattle grazed. A hay-wagon driven by a man in a large straw hat passed him; he did not look up, but had a feeling that the driver was watching him steadily. The road twisted and curved until Jerry had to get his bearings from the mountains before he was sure he was on the right track. Two miles farther, he came to a signpost that informed him that Wallis Springs lay to his left, while Wallistown was still seven miles away. This hike was farther than he had supposed; he might not be able to return to his comrades for some hours yet. Nevertheless, he knew that Wallis Springs was nothing more than a little group of summer cottages where he might not be able to purchase any food; he must push on to Wallistown, at the foot of the lake. He swung off down the curving road.
The sun was now high overhead; he was hot, dusty, and a trifle tired. He took off his mackinaw and slung it over his arm, wishing he had left it behind. Now and then he could see to his left the fringe of trees that bordered the big lake, and could make out the roofs of little cabins occupied by people who were summering on its shores. The road twisted in and out, following the wavy outline of the lake’s bank; no matter how fast he tried to walk, Wallistown seemed to be as far away as ever. He begged a glass of water from a friendly, red-faced woman who answered his knock at a little cottage beside the road, and went on. Several automobiles passed him, driving toward town, but none of their occupants offered to stop and give him a lift, and he did not dare ask for a ride. People who picked you up, he had found, were often very curious about where you were going and why; they asked too many questions, and he was in no frame of mind to undergo any cross-examinations this morning. It was almost eleven o’clock when he halted to rest beside a bridge that spanned a little stream which wandered toward the lake.
A whirring drone sounded above him; a cross-shaped shadow skimmed across a field by the road. An airplane hummed overhead, flying low, almost hitting the tree tops. Jerry wondered idly why the pilot took a chance of crashing by flying so close to the ground. The plane circled and swung off toward the mountains, and Jerry dismissed it from his mind. If he had known that this airplane was combing the country for traces of Burk and the missing boys, he might not have dismissed it so easily.