Ted Strong's Motor Car Part 38

"That's likely," said Ted. "I hadn't thought of that."

"Well, he got into communication with Dude, and warned him against coming to the Pine Street place. You see, they had another rendezvous out in the country, a haunted house, the reputation of which would keep prying country boys away from it."

"Best sort of a place for a criminal hangout," said Ted.

"You're right, and now that you have discovered it, I'll take pains to see that it's never used for such again. But, as I was going to say, Dude's intention was to get out of town, return, go to the Pine Street room, divide the swag, and skip. He probably left the train at Somerset, or some other little town down the line, hid in the cornfields until dusk, stole a horse and buggy, and drove across the country to the haunted house, and later was joined by Checkers, who had been trailing you, and later succeeded in getting you. Had it not been for the quarrel between Dude and Checkers, it is more than likely that you would have been murdered by Checkers. But one murder was enough for his nerve, and, forgetting you, he vamosed."

The detective arose to take his departure, again congratulating Ted on the outcome of his adventure.

"Keep your eye peeled for Checkers, and if you do run across him, have your gun at half c.o.c.k," he said, and, bidding good night to all, went away.

"And now, good fellows, all to bed," said Ted. "To-morrow we start for the West, and the capture of the head men of the train-robber syndicate, and the extermination of the business."

In the morning, before the others were up, Ted made Scrub take a bath, and then they sallied forth to a clothing store. When they came out, instead of the ragged and dirty little boy, there walked proudly by Ted's side a fine, clean, fresh-looking lad in a well-fitting serge suit, and other appointments that transformed him completely.

When they arrived at the hotel the boys professed not to know Scrub.

"h.e.l.lo, picked up another kid?" asked Bud. "I swow, yer allers goin'

round pickin' up mavericks. I reckon yer aim ter brand this one as well ez ther one yer brought in last night."

"Why, here's another kid," said Ben, looking over Scrub's new outfit with interest. "He don't look much like the one you brought in last night. I reckon that one has run away, I don't see him anywhere."

Poor Scrub was standing first on one foot and then on the other, fairly squirming with embarra.s.sment.

Ted gave the boys the nod to cease teasing the boy.

"Don't mind those fellows, they're only jos.h.i.+ng," said Ted.

"Oh, I don't mind it if they can get any fun out of it," said Scrub, with a smile. "Maybe, some day I can get back at them, when I know them better."

Stella came down in the elevator at that moment, and, catching sight of Scrub, gave a little scream of astonishment at his altered appearance.

"Goodness, what a fine-looking addition to the family!" she said, shaking hands with the boy, who blushed and looked pleased. "I don't like the name Scrub a bit. I'm going to change his name."

"This isn't leap year, Stella," said Ben.

"You hus.h.!.+ What name would you rather have than Scrub? That's no name for a broncho boy," she said to the boy.

"I don't know," answered the boy. "What name do you like?"

"I think she likes Ben better than any," said Ben, posing in a very handsome manner.

"Don't listen to him, he's always teasing. You want something short and easy to say."

"What's the matter with 'Say'?" said Ben. "That's always easy to remember. I notice that when a man wants to call another on the street he just hollers 'Say,' and half a dozen fellows turn around."

"Then that makes it too common," decided Stella. "What name would you suggest, Ted? He's got to have two names."

"Let us get one of the newspapers to start a voting contest on it."

"Ben, if you don't stop your foolishness, I won't play," said Stella.

"You name him, Stella," said Ted. "Anything you say goes."

"Then we'll call him d.i.c.k, after my father," said Stella. "He never had a boy, and always wanted one. I'm going to adopt this boy as a brother.

His name shall be d.i.c.k Fosd.i.c.k. That sounds funny, doesn't it, but I didn't do it on purpose."

There was a tear in her eye at the thought of her father, and the boys looked rather solemn, for while they hoped for the best, they didn't as yet know the lad, and perhaps they had saddled themselves with a future regret, but Stella trusted and believed in the little chap, who was very proud that at last he had thrown off and buried forever the name of Scrub.

That evening they took the train for the West, their destination being Green River.

The automobile Ted sent on by express that he might have it not only for use, for he was becoming attached to it, but as a clew to the detection of the express robbers.

CHAPTER XIX.

EZRA, THE LIFE-SAVING GOAT.

Ted had engaged several sections on the through sleeping car to North Platte, Nebraska, the old home of Colonel William Cody, known all over the world as "Buffalo Bill."

But they were to leave the train at Green River, ostensibly to buy cattle for their ranch. This, of course, was to avert suspicion from their real purpose of hunting down the express robbers.

For Mrs. Graham and Stella the stateroom of the car _Orizaba_ had been engaged, and the boys made it a sort of ceremonial chamber.

The car was well filled with other pa.s.sengers, many of them tourists on the way to Colorado or the Pacific coast, and they were much amused at the free-and-easy spirit with which the boys conducted themselves, and when it became generally known that they were the broncho boys, with Ted Strong at their head, they received a great deal of attention, which was not particularly to Ted's liking.

As usual, wherever they were, Bud Morgan, Ben Tremont, and Carl Schwartz provided a fund of amus.e.m.e.nt for everybody.

Little d.i.c.k Fosd.i.c.k had never known such happiness as he was now experiencing. He wors.h.i.+ped Stella, admired Ted, and looked upon Bud as the greatest pal a boy ever had.

He and Bud were inseparable, and Bud never tired of telling him yarns about cow-punching and Indian fighting, while the boy proved a breathless listener, hanging upon every word that fell from the yellow-haired cowboy's lips.

He knew by heart many of the adventures through which Ted Strong had pa.s.sed, and often surprised Ted by correcting some inaccuracy which, through a lapse of memory, Ted had made.

They were sailing across Missouri toward the West, and the boy kept his face glued to the window, watching for the first glimpse of the golden West of his fancy. Just at present he saw only farms and little towns, through which the fast train whizzed without stopping.

The boy knew this sort of country well, and was rather disappointed that the boundless prairie did not roll before him from horizon to horizon.

Then he turned his attention to the luxury of the car, but being a healthy boy, this did not impress him long, and he turned to his heroes for relief.

Bud was sitting comfortably sprawled out on two seats, singing softly to himself. Bud could not sing a little bit, but he thought he could, which served his purpose personally quite as well as if he could.

Ben was in the seat behind him, reading. After a while Bud's music, or the lack of it, got on Ben's nerves, and he reached over and poked Bud on top of his golden head with the corner of his book.

"Say," said he, "put on the soft pedal, won't you? Perhaps you can sing, and maybe some one told you you could, but take it from me you have no more voice or musical ability than a he-goat."