“Yes,” declared Ben. “That much is sure.”
“Did you see Harry?”
“No, but others did. When I went after him your father told me that Harry was grubbing out some brush in the old pasture lot. I went down there. The hoe he had been using was lying on the ground. His coat was hanging on the fence, but no Harry. I walked out beyond the fence to look around for him, and near the big gate was his cap, all tramped down in the mud. The ground looked as if there had been a scuffle.”
“This all sounds pretty strange,” commented Tom.
“I was standing wondering what next to do, when the old lady who lives near your house came over to me. She asked me whom I was looking for, and when I told her she said that about an hour before two men, strangers to her, had driven up in a covered wagon. They halted outside of the pasture lot. One of them stayed in the wagon. The other man went up to Harry and engaged him in conversation. He seemed to induce him by some argument or other to go out to the wagon. Once there, the woman said, the man tried to force Harry to go with them. He must have refused, for there was a scuffle, and the men threw Harry into the wagon and drove off with him.”
“Did you tell my father?” inquired Tom, arising to his feet in a state of deep anxiety and excitement.
“I ran to a field where some men were working. They told me that your father had gone to Westport with a load of hay. Then I ran here to tell you about it.”
“Ben, we must do something about this at once! You must stay here in charge.”
“I will, Tom. What do you suppose those men carried Harry away for?”
“This is no time to lose in theorizing. I have my ideas, but never mind them now. I will hurry home and start a chase after him.”