“Where was that?”
“Just inside the New Canaan line, near that flying field. I was makin’ that right turn when a guy jumps into the road and holds up his hand.”
“What did you do?”
“Gave her the gun, of course. But I missed him,” Charlie said ruefully. “Then two or three more of them started shooting. When the tire burst I went into the ditch. The car didn’t turn over—so I hopped it. I kept in the shadows of the trees. It was raining, and black as your hat, anyway. Soon a car passed me, going slow. Didn’t see hide nor hair of the bunch again until I climbed your stone wall. Then I ran smack into ’em.”
“You did!”
“Surest thing you know! We played hide and seek round the grounds, then I saw your open window. The storm broke about that time. Kind of upset them, maybe. Anyhow, I made for the ivy—and well—you know the rest.”
“Good boy!” Bill smiled and slapped him on the shoulder. “Any further instructions from your Dad?”
“He said we were to start back at once. Drive to Boston. Sleep there tomorrow and drive up to Maine tomorrow night. He told me to hurry—said that every hour counted, and to bring along Osceola if he was here.”
“The Chief and my father went to New York for a few days. They won’t be home until the end of the week. They may go to Washington, too. Some business connected with Osceola’s Seminoles. I’m alone here with the servants. Well, it’s too bad, but we’ll leave a note for him.”
“Gee, I’m sorry. Osceola would be just the guy for a stunt like this. But how can we make it, Bill? Take one of your old man’s cars? Mine is a wreck, down by the flying field.”