And adventures were awaiting them.
CHAPTER II
IN WHICH TOMMY DELAYS PROGRESS AND THEY LOSE THEIR WAY
It was a fresh, cool morning, with a southerly breeze blowing up from the ocean and rustling the leaves of the willows and maples along the meadow walls. Big fleecy clouds sailed slowly across a blue September sky, hundreds of birds flitted about the way and made the journey musical, and life was well worth living. Not until they had turned into the country road, a level, well-kept thoroughfare, did they catch a glimpse of any habitation. Then a comfortable-looking farmhouse with its accompanying barns and stables came into view.
Lets go in and get a drink of water, suggested Tom.
No one else, however, was thirsty, and so Tom passed in through the big gate alone while the others made themselves comfortable on the top of the wall. Tom was gone a long time, but finally, just when Dan was starting off to find him, he came into sight.
Whats he got? asked Nelson.
Looks as though he was eating something, answered Dan. By Jupiter, its pie!
You fellows missed it, called Tom, smiling broadly. She gave me a piece of apple pie and it was great.
Doesnt look like apple, said Bob.
Oh, this is squash. The first piece was apple, was the cheerful reply.
Well, of all pigs! said Nelson. How many pieces did you have?
Only two, was the unruffled response. And a glass of milk.
Nelson looked his disgust, but Dan, reaching forward, sent the half-consumed wedge of pastry into the dust.
Hope you ch-ch-choke! said Tommy warmly, viewing his prize ruefully. It was gu-gu-gu-good pie, too!
But he got no sympathy from his laughing companions. Bob declared that it served him jolly well right.
Hell wish he hadnt eaten any before he gets to the end of the days journey, said Dan. Weve got six miles and more to Jericho, and I guess wed better be doing em.
So they took up the march again. Everyone was in high feather. Side excursions into adjoining fields were made, Dan went a hundred yards out of his way to shy a stone at a noisy frog, and Nelson climbed a cedar tree to its topmost branches merely because Bob hazarded the opinion that cedar trees were hard to shin up. Only Tommy seemed to experience none of the intoxication of the highway and the morning air. Tommy appeared a bit sluggish, and kept dropping back, necessitating frequent halts.
Look here, Tommy, said Dan presently, were awfully fond of you, but we love honor more; also dinner. If you really want to spend the day around here studying nature, why just say so; well wait for you at Jericho.
Whereupon Tom gave a grunt and moved faster. But at the end of half an hour the truth was out; Tommy didnt feel just right.
Where do you hurt? asked Bob skeptically.
I I have a beast of a pain in my chest, said Tom, leaning against a fence and laying one hand pathetically halfway down the front of his flannel shirt. The others howled gleefully.
On his chest! shrieked Dan.
Sure it isnt a headache? laughed Nelson.
Tom looked aggrieved.
I gu-gu-gu-guess if you fu-fu-fu-fellows had it you wu-wu-wu-wu-wu
Look here, Tommy, said Bob, you havent got a pain; youve just swallowed an alarm clock!
Thats what you get for eating all that pie and making a hog of yourself, said Dan sternly.
Its Tommys tummy, murmured Nelson.
Whatever it was, it undoubtedly hurt, for Tommy was soon doubled up on the grass groaning dolefully. The others, exchanging comical glances, made themselves comfortable alongside.
Got anything in your medicine chest that will help him, Dan? asked Nelson. Dan shook his head. The medicine chest consisted of a two-ounce bottle of camphor liniment and a similar sized flask of witch-hazel.
How you feeling now, Tommy? asked Bob gravely.
Better, muttered Tom. Id ju-ju-ju-just like to know what that woman put in her pu-pu-pu-pie!
You dont suppose it was poison, do you? asked Dan, with a wink at the others.
Toms head came up like a shot and he stared wildly about him.
I bu-bu-bu-bet it wa-wa-wa-was! he shrieked. It fu-fu-feels like it! A-a-a-a-arsenic!
Thats mean, Dan, said Bob. Hes only fooling, Tommy. You have just got a plain, everyday tummyache. Lie still a bit and youll be all right.
Tom looked from one to the other in deep mistrust.
If I du-du-du-die, he wailed, I I
He broke off to groan and wriggle uneasily.
What, Tommy? asked Dan with a grin.
I I hope you all ch-ch-ch-ch-choke!
Toms pain in his chest kept them there the better part of two hours, and it was past eleven when the invalid pronounced himself able to continue the journey. There was still some four miles to go in order to reach Jericho, which hamlet they had settled upon as their dinner stop, and they struck out briskly.
What was that chaps name? asked Dan. The one we were to get dinner from.
Hooper, answered Bob, William Hooper. I wish I was there now. Im as hungry as a bear.
There was a groan from Tom.
Thats all right, Tommy, but we havent feasted on nice apple and squash pie, you see.
Shut up! begged Tom.
How bigs this Jericho place? asked Nelson.
Out came Bobs road map.
Seems to be about three houses there according to this, answered Bob.
Gee! I hope we dont get by without seeing it, said Dan. Do you suppose theres a sign on it?
I dont know, but Ive heard there was a tree opposite it, Bob replied gravely. And theres something else here too, he continued, still studying the map. Its a long, black thing; looks as though it might be a skating rink or a ropewalk.
Maybe its the poorhouse, suggested Dan, looking over his shoulder.
Or a hospital for Tommy, added Nelson.
Anyhow, I hope theres something to eat there, said Bob.
Me too, sighed Nelson. This is the longest old seven miles I ever saw. And its after twelve oclock. Sure were on the right road, Bob?
Of course. Look at the map.
Oh, hang the map! Lets ask some one.
All right. It does seem a good ways. Well ask the next person we see.
But although they had met half a dozen persons up to that time, it seemed now that the district had suddenly become depopulated. Nelson said he guessed they were all at home eating dinner. After another half hour of steady walking, during which time Tom recovered his spirits, they came into sight of a little village set along the road. There was one store there and some five or six houses.
Anyhow, said Dan hopefully, we can get some crackers and cheese in the store.
But when they had piled through the door they changed their minds. It was a hardware store! A little old man with a bald head and brass-rimmed spectacles limped down behind the counter to meet them.
Is this Jericho? asked Bob.
Jericho? No, this aint Jericho, was the answer.
Oh! Er what is it?
Bakerville.
Wheres Bakerville?
Right here.
I know, but well, wheres Jericho?
Bout eight miles from here.
Four boys groaned in unison. Bob pulled out his map, in spite of the fact that Dan looked as though he was ready to seize upon and destroy it.
Is this Jericho? asked Bob.
Jericho? No, this aint Jericho, was the answer.
Oh! Er what is it?
Bakerville.
Wheres Bakerville?
Right here.
I know, but well, wheres Jericho?
Bout eight miles from here.
Four boys groaned in unison. Bob pulled out his map, in spite of the fact that Dan looked as though he was ready to seize upon and destroy it.
Thats right, said Bob sadly. We got too far north.
I should say we did! snorted Dan. About eight miles!
But I dont see how we managed to get off the right road, said Bob.
I do, answered Nelson. Dont you remember when Tom was laid out? There were two roads there just beyond. We must have taken the wrong one.
Thats so, said Tom; I remember.
Lots of good your remembering does now, grunted Nelson. If you hadnt got to fussing with those pies !
Thought you was in Jericho, did yer? asked the shopkeeper with a chuckle. They nodded soberly. Well, well, thats a good joke, aint it?
Swell! muttered Dan.
Tom grunted something about choking.
Is there any place here where we can get something to eat? asked Bob.
I guess not, but theres a hotel about a mile along. I guess you can get something there.
So they prevailed on him to go to the door with them and point out the way.
Its on your way to Jericho, said the storekeeper, pointing out the road. You turn down that first road there and then bear to the left until you come to a big white farmhouse. Then you turn to the right and keep on about half a mile, or maybe a mile, and the Center House is just a little beyond. Its a brown house with lots of windows and a barn.
Cant help finding it, muttered Dan sarcastically.
They were rather quiet as they passed through the village and took the turn indicated. From one house came an enticing odor of onions, and Dan leaned up against a telephone pole and pretended to weep. That mile was as long as two, but in the end they came into sight of the brown house with lots of windows and a barn. But it didnt look very hospitable. The windows were closed and shuttered, and the barn appeared to be in the last stages of decay. With sinking hearts they climbed the steps and beat a tattoo on the front door. All was silence.
Empty! groaned Nelson.
Nothing doing! murmured Dan.
Hit it again, counseled Tommy.
They all took a hand at beating on that door, but it didnt do the least bit of good. The place was empty and closed up. Nelson sat down on the top step and stared sadly across the country road. Tom joined him.
Wish I had some more of that pie, he muttered.
Bob produced the map, which was already getting frayed at the corners, and opened it out.
The best thing to do, he said, is to keep on till we find a farmhouse or something, and beg some food.
I could eat raw dog, said Dan. Any houses in sight on that lying map of yours?
Sure.
How many miles off?
About er about two or three, I should say.
Cant be done, said Dan decidedly. I couldnt walk two miles if there was a thousand dollars at the end of it.
I could do it if there was a ham sandwich at the end of it, said Nelson.
Hunger has driven him daffy, explained Dan sadly.
Well, theres no use staying here, said Bob impatiently.
Oh, I dont know. Might as well die here as anywhere, answered Nelson.
Wasnt it your father, Dan, who said the beauty about Long Island was that the towns were near together and we could get good accommodations easily? asked Tom.
Dan made no answer.
Suddenly a noise startled them. At the end of the porch stood a boy of sixteen in an old blue shirt and faded overalls. He was plainly surprised to see them, and stood looking at them for several seconds before he spoke. Finally,
Hello! he said.
Greetings, answered Dan. Will you kindly send the head waiter to us?
Huh? asked the youth.
Well, never mind then. Just show us to our rooms. Well have a light lunch sent up and keep our appetites for dinner.
Is the hotel closed? interrupted Bob. The youth nodded.
Yep. They didnt make no money last summer, so they didnt open it this year. Did you knock?
Oh, no, we didnt exactly knock, answered Dan. We only kind of tapped weakly.
Want anything?
Yes, a man at Bakerville said we could get some dinner here. I dont suppose we can, though, added Bob sadly. The other shook his head slowly.
Guess not, he said. Theres a hotel at Minton Hill, though. Theres lots of summer folks there.
How fars that?
Not moren six miles.
The four groaned in unison.
We havent had anything since seven oclock, said Nelson.
You aint? The youth became instantly sympathetic. Well, aint that too bad?
The question scarcely seemed to demand an answer and so received none. The youth in the overalls frowned deeply.
Well, now, look here, he said finally. Me an dad lives back here in the barn and looks after the farm. We aint got much, but if some bread and butter and milk will do, why, I guess
The four threw themselves upon him as one man.
Bread! shouted Dan.
Butter! cried Nelson.
Milk! gurgled Tommy.
Lead the way! said Bob.
CHAPTER III
INTRODUCES MR. JERRY HINKLEY AND AN IMPROMPTU DINNER
That was a strange meal and an enjoyable one. The menu wasnt elaborate, but their appetites were, and not one of the four was inclined to be critical. What had formerly been the carriage house had been fitted up with a couple of cot beds, some chairs, a stove, and a table, into an airy, if not very well-appointed, apartment. The boy in overalls, whose name during the subsequent conversation transpired to be Jerry Hinkley, produced a loaf of bread and a pat of butter from a box, and then disappeared for a minute. When he returned he brought a battered tin can half full of milk. Eating utensils were scarce, and the boys had to take turns with the two knives and the two thick china cups. The table boasted no cloth, and Tom had to sit on an empty box, but those were mere details.
I looked to see if I could find a few eggs, said Jerry, as he poured out the milk, but we aint got but eight hens and they aint been layin much lately.
This will do finely, mumbled Dan, with his mouth full of bread and butter.
Its swell, said Tom from behind his cup.
The doors were wide open, and the September sunlight streamed in over the dusty floor. A bedraggled rooster, followed cautiously by a trio of dejected-looking hens, approached and observed the banquet from the doorsill, clucking suspiciously. Jerry sat on the edge of one of the cots and watched proceedings with interest. But he seemed uneasy, and once or twice he started up only to change his mind with a troubled frown and return to his seat. Finally he asked awkwardly:
Say, was you fellows meanin to pay anything for your food?
Of course, Bob assured him. You dont think were going to let you feed us for nothing?
Thats all right, then, said Jerry, looking vastly relieved. We got some bacon and if you say so Ill fry you some in a jiffy.
The boys howled approval.