They flew down the Ashby road and in a few minutes came to the Bartlett farm. Yes, they had passed there and they certainly were traveling some. A couple of miles further on the road forked. There was a negro cabin at that place and they might get some information there. He hoped so, anyway. Good luck, and with a word of thanks, the boys rushed on.
A stout negress washing clothes under the tree at the fork of the road wiped the suds from her hands with her apron as she came forward.
“Dey sholy did go pass hyar, gemmun, and dey wuz drivin’ as do de ole Nick was affer dem. Dat’s a pow’ful po’ road up dataway and der hosses wuz plum tired. Dey kain’t be ve’y far ahaid, I specs.”
Exultingly Bert threw in the high speed. Their quarry had been run down at last. The motor fairly sang as they plunged up the road. Turning a curve to the right they came upon the procession of carts, now toiling along painfully. Bert never hesitated a second, but rushed past the line of wagons until he had reached the head of the caravan. [Then he swung the “Red Scout” squarely across the road] and with Mr. Hollis, Dick, Tom and Bob, sprang to the ground.
Consternation plainly reigned in the halted carts. The men crowded forward and hastily consulted. A moment later an old man, evidently the chief, came forward. He was prepared to try diplomacy first, and with an ingratiating smile held out his hand to Mr. Hollis. The latter, ignoring the extended hand, came straight to the point.
“I want three things,” he said, “and unless you are looking for trouble, you’ll hand them over at once. I want the pin and watch and dog your people stole from us last night.”
The leader’s smile faded, to be replaced by an ominous scowl.
“It’s a lie,” he said sullenly, “my people stole nothing. Get out of our road,” he snarled viciously, while his followers gathered threateningly around him.
The air was surcharged with danger and a fight seemed imminent, when suddenly a familiar bark came from one of the vans. Bert dashed forward, thrusting aside a young gipsy who sprang to intercept him. He threw open the van door, and out rushed Don, mad with delight. He had chewed in half the rope that held him and the frayed remnant hung about his neck as he leaped on Bert and capered frantically about him.