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"That's the way he keeps going on," remarked Worth, regarding Phil attentively. "Reckon he ought to have a--a doctor?"
After another short consultation Dan, who meanwhile had eaten and felt refreshed and rested, set out on another horse for the nearest physician.
"Tell Doc the whole story, Dan," urged the father. "If we get any sense outen him, mebbe it will help undo this mystery that surrounds the whole business. Tell him I won't pay his bill, but the county probably will.
Thurfore he can stick it up to a pretty stiff figure."
Meanwhile Phil had been conferring with his three chums apart.
"I've made up my mind that some of us ought to visit that old tavern again. There's something up down there or I'm a fool in judging by appearances. How do we know that this Dippy, as that chap calls his mate, may not slip in, having, as he may think, killed his partner, and destroy what I saw when we went in after Billy? We've got time now. We can take the car--Worth and me."
"That sounds bully," exclaimed Worth. "I'm with you. They kidnaped me; I want to get even."
The only trouble now was that both Dave and Paul wanted to be "on," in this adventure; but they yielded when Phil made it plain that part of them must remain at Feeney's to make sure that the one they had captured was in safe keeping. They all felt that if anything serious were in all this, it was inc.u.mbent on all of them to be where things would go smoothly.
"Well then," remarked Phil in low tones, "when Billy and I are gone, it falls on you, (meaning Dave and Paul) to help Feeney when anything happens."
Just then the wounded man suddenly sat up in bed, clapped a hand upon his forehead and began to mumble to himself.
"No--good--" he began. "Metal--dies--all there. Then--Dippy--tries to kill--me--"
"Who are you anyway?" suddenly demanded Phil, spurred by a sudden hope that in his delirium the wounded man might let out something as his now disordered brain appeared to connect the present with what he remembered of the past.
"Me?" The man stared vacantly past Phil at the wall. "I--I'm Jimmy--Horr. I'm--I'm--" His voice trailed off into a mumble.
Phil bent forward close as he demanded:
"If you are Jimmy Horr, who is Dippy? You've been calling him often enough. We want to find him."
"D-Dippy--he--he's my partner. He's--he's Dippy Quinn--he--" Again he stared, straight now at Phil. "Wh--who be you?"
Still staring, he fell back, trembling as if in pain, muttering:
"My head--my--he--head!" Then his eyes closed and he was off in another apparent swoon.
"Come on, Billy," said Phil. "Let us be off! Are the things out of the car?"
"Most of them," replied Dave. "I put 'em in the porch. Don't be gone longer than you can help."
In they jumped, Phil at the wheel, and the car purred softly down the old woods road towards the Ghost Tavern. Whether either of them knew their departure was observed by the Feeneys was not important, and gave them no concern. Both now felt that no time should be lost in finding out if the partner of Horr was yet in that vicinity. Despite the improbability, Phil could not help feeling that if those two had been doing wrong in the old inn, it might be that the survivor, as he probably deemed himself, might wish to pay a final visit there before taking his stealthy departure.
In fact, so mysterious was the whole series of adventures which the boys had gone through that almost anything might happen. In due time the Big Six drew up near the old tavern, and the boys cunningly hid the car behind a screen of shrubbery, where it would hardly be seen if any one should pa.s.s by. Still Phil, in view of what had happened to the car, made a suggestion.
"You stay here, Billy; at least until I call you or you see something is happening. If I find anyone or anything that's dangerous, I'll let you know."
"Will you--sure?" queried Worth anxiously.
Before Phil, now out of the car and heading for the porch could answer, there came the m.u.f.fled sound of something inside the inn being moved. At the sound Billy seized a heavy walking stick from the driver's seat, which no one ever used, but which was carried simply because it might some time come handy. Giving this to Phil, he himself took a short thick rubber tube used at times when gasoline was transferred from a tank to the machine reservoir.
"I'm going with you, Phil," he whispered. "No use to say no!"
CHAPTER XV
AT THE OLD TAVERN
Phil offered no objection, but took the walking stick and at once entered the porch, making as little noise as possible. Billy came close behind, feeling the rubber tube to make sure that it could stun, if not kill, when handled with due precision and force.
As has been stated before, portions of the porch floor had been previously broken in, where the elements had too heavily tested the wood. Phil finally pa.s.sed into the office without making any noise but Billy was not so lucky. Despite his care, he misjudged where he trod when he was near the doorway, when there was an ominous crackling sound under his last footstep.
"Cr-r-r-r--a-c-c-k!" Down went his leg, clear above his knee. In the effort to rise, down went the other leg with a similar crunching crumble, and there was Billy submerged, so to speak, to the waist. Nor did it stop there, for under the porch was a cellar that extended pretty well under the fore part of the ancient building.
For half a moment Billy's form remained waist deep under the porch, when from below there came another crackling, crunching sound, and Billy began to descend at first slowly, as the rafters over the cellar began to collapse. Then down he went amid a cloud of dust from the rotting woodwork, as with a feverish exclamation he vanished from sight. Just at this instant Phil wheeled, startled by the noise Worth was making and started to whisper a cautionary "Silence!"
At this juncture Billy vanished from sight, though Phil heard him, as he struck the earth of the partially filled cellar, give voice as follows:
"Hullo, Phil! I'm gone!" And that was all Phil then heard from Billy.
Just then there came a scuffling noise from the interior, where a door, partially open, led from the old office to the rear room. Knowing that someone must be inside, for the noise was not from where Billy had gone down, Phil grasped his cane harder and dashed through the open door into the back room where he had before seen the forge and the tools, which he had not been able to understand at the time.
Right in front of him was another open door, beyond the hastily constructed forge; and down what seemed to be a cellar stairway he could see the head and shoulders of a man. The stranger was struggling upward, impeded by some burden he was carrying with difficulty.
It was difficult in the half light that filtered through the overhanging shade trees without to distinguish anything distinctly. All Phil could see was that the man wore a slouch hat, combed with cobwebs from the cellar region below. All at once came the conviction to the lad:
"This must be Dippy, whom the other was calling for so often."
With this came Phil's resolve to boldly move up and prevent this mysterious fellow's escape. He dashed forward, calling out:
"Halt, you! Give an account of yourself! I--"
Here the stranger, dropping the bundle he was carrying, attempted to spring up the last two steps, at the same time reaching behind and pulling forth something small that glittered in the semi-twilight. What could it be--a pistol? At the mere thought, Phil leaped nearer, struck at the glittering toy, while the descending blow knocked the fellow's hat off and, partially stunning him, sent him back down the gloomy stairway. The lower end of this was shrouded in deeper gloom, though some light from a cellar window shed a little pale glow from the outside daylight.
Following closely, Phil began to stumble down the stairway, when he heard another's unmistakable advance below. For Billy, still armed with the rubber tube, had heard the mix-up going on above, together with Phil's loud tones and the succeeding fracas; and he saw dimly the tumbling of some bulky weight, followed by the heavier fall of a man's body.
"Great goodness!" thought Worth. "Can that be Phil?"
With the thought he scrambled forward over heaps of loose earth to the firmer floor of the main part of the cellar, until he stood over a figure trying to rise. At the same time down stumbled his comrade, saying:
"I'll get you yet--mind that!"
Satisfied now that it was not Phil at his feet, Billy brought down his heavy rubber tube over the man's head, who sank back uttering a groan of pain. At the same time Phil, reaching the bottom of the stairway, saw something twinkle in the dirt at his feet. He picked it up.
"Here is the pistol he was trying to shoot me with, Billy. Don't let him up while I feel for some cord I brought along."
Billy, standing astride the prostrate man, took the pistol, a small affair. As the stranger groaned and moved Billy gave him another sharp tap with the tubing that seemed to settle his hash, as the boys later expressed it.
Fingering the weapon, Billy found that it was loaded, all except one chamber. He looked up, saying: