The Red Chipmunk Mystery (17 page)

“
Say!
” Joan said suddenly. “I’m
almost
starved to death. I wonder what time it is? Aren’t
you
hungry?”

Buddy was so filled with inner turmoil and excitement that the sudden barrage of questions startled him. He had been doing his best to keep Joan from noticing his agitation but she couldn’t help noticing the way he jumped and then gulped before he looked up at the sun.

“It’s—it’s around one o’clock, I think,” he said, and added, “
Naw!
I’m not hungry.”

“Gosh,” Joan said, and she looked at him curiously. “There
must
be
something
the matter with you.” Buddy didn’t say anything, but although he didn’t realise it himself it was the first time since he was born that he hadn’t been hungry.

“You know,” Joan said, after a few more moments of thought, “I think we ought to go back to the wagon and eat the sandwiches I made for lunch. Granpa ought to be awake by now, and then we won’t have to make another stop later on.”

“
Oh, let him sleep!
” Buddy said impatiently. He rose and said, “
C’mon!
Here, Champ! Here, Champ!” Champ lifted his head and then scampered down off the rock, too. Joan got down more slowly and with dignity.

“Well, for goodness’ sake!” she said. “You don’t have to be mad about it.”

Again Buddy didn’t say anything, but he thought: “
Girls! Jiminy crimps!
”

They plodded along the dusty road, not speaking except when Buddy said with a worried voice, “I
can’t
understand why Mr. Furlong and that trooper don’t come along. They
said
they were coming back this morning and it’s nearly—–” He looked up at the sun again. “It’s around two o’clock.”

“They probably had to go some place else first,” Joan said with maddening logic. “But I know one thing.” She broke off and climbed upon a stone wall that was in the shade. “I’m not going to walk another step. I’m going to wait
right here
until they come, or granpa and Djuna catch up with us. I’m so hungry I’m
weak
!” Champ looked up at Joan and barked a couple of times to tell her that he agreed with her. For a moment Buddy looked as though he were going to argue the point. Then he clamped his lips shut and climbed up on the wall beside Joan.

“
Jeepers! I wish they’d come!
” he said. Joan looked at him and sniffed.

“You an’ your old wintergreen berries,” she said disdainfully. “There weren’t enough to—to
feed a fly!
”

But Buddy wasn’t even listening to her. He was wondering what was happening to Djuna and Mr. Scissors and he was worried half sick with the wondering.

It wasn’t more than five minutes later that they saw Cannonball McGinty’s white car come tearing down the road in the distance with a swirl of dust behind it. It dipped down in a hollow out of sight for a moment and then came roaring up into sight again almost before they could get off the fence. Buddy jumped out into the road and began to wave his arm wildly as the car bore down on him. He jumped back when the car started to slow down as it went by. Then he turned to Joan and said, “I’ve got something I’ve
got
to talk to them about.
You stay here
until I’m through!” He started running down the road without waiting to hear what Joan had to say.

“
Well, I never!
” Joan said as she stared after Buddy. “
What
in the world is eatin’ him?” she added, using one of her grandfather’s expressions. But she stayed on the fence.

When Buddy arrived beside the white car Socker Furlong had opened the door and was about to step out.

His smile of greeting turned to one of worried concern as he saw the wild-eyed expression on Buddy’s face.

“
Jiminy crimps! Where have you been?
” Buddy wanted to know. “Those men kidnapped Mr. Scissors with a gun and—and Djuna went into the slate quarry to follow ’em, and—and—–”

Socker exchanged a quick glance with Cannonball McGinty as Cannonball leaned forward quickly, and then he put a restraining hand on Buddy’s shoulder. “Take it easy, Buddy,” he said. “Just close your eyes and count to ten while you get hold of yourself.”

Buddy stared at him and then as Socker repeated, “Go ahead and close your eyes and count to ten,” he realised that Socker meant it and he closed his eyes.

“
Wuh-tu-tree-fr-fi-si-sev-ei-ni-ten!
” he said, so fast that both Socker and Cannonball blinked, and opened his eyes again.

“
Now!
Take it easy,” Socker said again. “Are these the same two men who wrecked Mr. Scissors’ wagon?”

“Yes—yes, sir!” Buddy stammered.

“Where did it happen?” Socker asked.

“Back—back a couple of miles at the slate quarry,” Buddy said.

“Did you see them?” Socker asked before Buddy could go on.

“No-o-o! But Djuna saw them,” Buddy said, and this time he couldn’t be stopped. “We—we stopped there so Old Blade could rest and Joan and Djuna and I went across the road to look at the slate quarry. When we came back Djuna was ahead of us. He—he saw the two men pushing an automatic into Mr. Scissors’ back as they took him over into the slate quarry. Joan didn’t see them. She doesn’t know anything about it. Djuna told me to walk on and meet you and tell you. He—he was going to follow them into the slate quarry and find out where they took Mr. Scissors.”

“
There
, you big
fathead
, are those two escaped convicts!” Cannonball exploded. “And
you
were certain they hadn’t been able to get over into this territory!”

“I’m afraid that for once in your life you’re right,” Socker said grimly. “How long ago was this, Buddy?”

“Abou—about an hour ago,” Buddy said, and gulped. “I—I thought you were never coming.”

“We had a couple of leads we had to follow, Buddy,” Cannonball said as he began to twirl the dials on his two-way radio telephone.

“Don’t—don’t let Joan know anything about it until you have to,” Buddy pleaded. “ She—she thought her grandfather had just taken a blanket and gone off some place to take a nap. Djuna sent me on ahead with her so she wouldn’t find out and be frightened.”

“And they say chivalry is dead!” Socker Furlong growled.

“Car one-two-seven … car one-two-seven calling WPXL. Car one-two-seven calling WPXL. Over.” Cannonball McGinty chanted into his microphone.

“WPXL … WPXL to car one-two-seven … WPXL to car one-two-seven. Come in. Over,” a voice came back in Cannonball’s ear from the state police sub-station in Riverton.

“Car one-two-seven to WPXL. Trooper McGinty reporting. On valley road one mile east of Rocky Hill. Have located escaped convicts, Mooney and Guerin. They are holed in the old slate quarry near here. They are armed and are dangerous. Will require all men available with tear gas and tommy guns for capture. Over,” Cannonball said.

“WPXL to Trooper McGinty … teletype report going out … hold on for instructions. Over,” the radio-telephone man at the sub-station in Riverton replied.

“Car one-two-seven to WPXL … Trooper McGinty reporting. Convicts Mooney and Guerin have kidnapped man known as Mr. Scissors … have forced him into quarry with them … holding on for instructions … Over,” Cannonball answered into his mircophone.

“WPXL to Trooper McGinty,” the voice came back. “Lieutenant Scaton orders you to proceed cautiously to slate quarry … proceed cautiously to slate quarry and wait for reinforcements … all available men will be rushed with tear gas and tommy guns … do not try to go into quarry until reinforcements arrive … proceed cautiously … they are dangerous … proceed cautiously. WPXL to car one-two-seven … off at two-twenty-three p.m. … WPXL to car one-two-seven … off at two-twenty-three p.m.”

“Car one-two-seven to WPXL … off at two-twenty-three p.m. … off at two-twenty-three p.m.,” Cannonball chanted and threw his radio key.

“We’re to go ahead to the slate quarry,” Cannonball said grimly to Socker and Buddy. “Get Joan, Buddy, and we’ll take you along with us as far as the top of Slate Quarry Hill. They’re sending men with tear gas and tommy guns!”

“
O-o-o-h!
” Buddy moaned as he waved at Joan and Champ to join them. He wondered if he would live through all the excitement.

DJUNA IN THE CAVE

W
HEN
the man called Moon swung the car on to the valley road he spoke to Djuna, guardedly, without turning his head. “What,” he asked, “was the idea in riding that old plug down here in such a hurry?” Louie turned his head to stare at him as Djuna tried to think of a suitable reply.

“Why, why, I came down here to get something Mr. Scissors forgot,” Djuna stammered. “I—I—–”

“
Horse feathers!
” Moon exploded. “Never mind! I’ll find out the truth when we get back to the quarry.”

Djuna felt just the way
any
boy would have felt as the black sedan, rocking from side to side, sped back. He was frightened now, and he blamed himself because he hadn’t gone to find Mr. Harley before he went into the cobbler’s shop. He knew that a human life was more valuable than anything else in the world and he was afraid that his failure might cost Mr. Scissors his life, and perhaps his own. He knew now, too, that both Moon and Louie were dangerous men who would stop at nothing to attain their purpose and their freedom.

Moon and Louie paid no further attention to him. They were deep in their own pleasant thoughts because, at last, they had found the bridle for which they had been searching. They ignored him, and Djuna was glad of it, because he had noticed one little thing as they left the cobbler’s shop that had escaped the notice of the two convicts. Djuna was afraid that if they studied him closely they would see the elation in his eyes. He had seen a man looking at the black sedan from down the road, and then Djuna noticed that the man got excited as he seemed to recognise the car and had started to run in the direction of Constable Ed Harley’s house. He knew that as soon as Ed Harley saw Old Blade, all covered with lather and very tired, Mr. Harley would know something was wrong again.

But the two convicts didn’t seem to be at all afraid of pursuit although Djuna did notice that Moon quite frequently glanced into his rear-view mirror. Then Moon’s momentary good nature disappeared as a hay wagon loaded high with hay turned into the road a half-mile ahead. Moon began to blow his horn without diminishing his speed. But the driver of the hay wagon, who was standing on top of the hay, was either deaf or just wouldn’t pay any attention to the horn, because he kept in the middle of the narrow road and didn’t even look around. Moon slowed the car down so that it was barely moving while he kept one hand on the button of the horn. When the wagon continued to occupy all of the road Moon began to snarl. There was no possible way for him to get by because there was an abrupt drop of about three feet on each side of the road.

After two or three minutes Djuna saw that Moon was driving with one hand while he struggled to pull something out of his pocket with his other hand. An instant later he saw a blue-nosed automatic pistol in Moon’s hand and Moon snarled, “I’ll get him out of the habit of hogging the whole road!” He stuck the automatic through the open window with his left hand and pointed it towards the driver of the hay wagon while Louie protested, and Djuna watched with dreadful fascination.

When Moon pressed the trigger the automatic went off twice with a frightening sound. The man on the hay wagon turned his head then, although the bullets hadn’t touched him. When he saw the pistol pointed towards him his mouth dropped open and an expression of incredulous terror twisted his face. Then he dropped into the hay and disappeared from sight just as though the bullets had hit him. A moment later the horses pulling the hay wagon cut over to the right and there was room for the black sedan to pass. As the car gathered speed again Djuna turned his head and the only sign of the man who was driving was the peak of his hat sticking up above the hay. But as Djuna started to look away he saw the man lift his head and shake his fist after the car.

“Do you want every farmer around here out looking for us with shotguns?” Louie whined at Moon.

“They don’t worry me, pal,” Moon snarled. “We’ll be on our way as soon as we take care of that old guy Scissors and that little punk back there.” Djuna’s heart sank as he realised fully, for the first time, that Moon was the kind of man that would stop at
nothing
to attain his own ends.

The black car sped by the turn-off to Ferry Crossing and up and down the several small hills before they crossed the little wooden bridge near the foot of Slate Quarry Hill. Moon lessened his pressure on the accelerator, beyond the bridge, and the car began to lose speed.

At the foot of the hill Moon came to a stop and Louie climbed out hastily to remove three wooden bars that were a gate into the field. There was no road, but Moon swung the car down the bank and Louie put the bars back after Moon stopped the car in the field to wait for him.

Djuna understood, now, as the car barely crept over the bumpy field, why he had been able to reach Cliffton Valley ahead of it. He had wondered where Moon and Louie had hidden their car along the valley road, because the overgrown road that led into the slate quarry was too narrow and treacherous for a car. He realised that they had another entrance to their hide-out in the quarry, and had been forced to drive at a snail’s pace as they skirted the base of the hill through the rough field. It took them a long time to get across the field in spite of the fact that Moon was driving with little regard for the tyres and springs of the car.

When they were almost down to the banks of the Herring River, Moon pulled the car into a clump of trees where it was completely hidden and got out of the driver’s seat. “That’s the last time we’ll use this crate,” he said as he got out. He opened the back door of the sedan and snapped at Djuna, “Come on, punk!” Djuna climbed out too slowly to please him and he cuffed him on the side of the head with his open hand.

“Look,” Moon said to Louie, “I’ll take this smart little onion up to the mouth of the mine. You go down and check and be sure the row-boat is okay. We’ll be using it within an hour to get across the river.” He stood back in the cover from the trees and peered across the river at a farmstead on the other side.