Ted Strong's Motor Car Part 35

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That was the extent of his view from the window.

He examined the door, which was the only other means of exit from the room.

It was very heavy, and made of oak. The lock on it was ma.s.sive and old-fas.h.i.+oned, and set into the oak frame so that an examination of it dispelled all hope of getting it off.

If he was to escape there was only one way, to cut a hole in the door.

He felt for his knife. It was gone, and Ted wandered disconsolately to the couch and sat down to ponder. But the more he racked his brains the further he got from a plan of escape.

The day dragged slowly on, but he would not sleep for fear that he might miss some one pa.s.sing to whom he could call and bring a.s.sistance.

Late in the afternoon he stepped to the window and looked at an apple tree in the grounds beyond. It was full of red apples, and he was very hungry, but they were not for him.

He wondered that he had not heard any one pa.s.s along the road on the other side of the brick wall.

Suddenly he noticed that the leaves in an apple tree were being violently agitated, although there was not a breath of wind stirring.

Some one was in the tree, and his first impulse was to yell for help, then he reflected that if it was a boy pilfering apples the cry would scare him, and his only chance for rescue would be ruined by the boy running away.

He would wait for the boy to come to the ground, and would then speak to him.

But as he was watching the tree intently the movement of the leaves ceased, and soon he perceived a peering face and two dark, roguish eyes.

They reminded him of a bird, so bright and inquiring were they.

Ted smiled at the eyes, and thought he saw an answering twinkle in them.

They disappeared after a few moments. The leaves shook again, and a boy of about ten years, incredibly ragged, with a dirty face, hands, and bare feet and legs, dropped to the ground. His head was covered with a tangled mop of brown hair in lieu of a hat.

The boy stared at the window, all the while munching an apple, while from the bulges in his scant trousers it was evident that he had others for future consumption.

"h.e.l.lo, boy!" said Ted, with a friendly way.

"h.e.l.lo! Who are you?" said the boy, coming a few steps nearer, to get a better view.

"Do you mean what's my name?"

"Uh-huh!"

"My name is Ted Strong. What's yours?"

"Napoleon Bonaparte."

Ted laughed at the solemnity of the boy when he gave this answer.

"Well," said the boy, "it's just as much Napoleon as yours is Ted Strong."

"But my name is Ted Strong."

"Aw, come off."

"All right, if you don't believe me, ask me any questions you like to prove it."

"Where do you come from?"

"Moon Valley, South Dakota."

"That's right. What's the names of some of Ted Strong's fellers?"

Ted named them all, the boy giving a nod after every name.

"Now, what's the name of your horse? The one you ride most?"

"Sultan. You seem to know something about me."

"You bet. Well, maybe you're all right, but what are you doing here? I always thought you stayed out West--away out West."

"Usually I do."

"Then what are you doing in the haunted house?"

"Is this a haunted house?"

"You bet. There was a feller killed there once, and n.o.body will live in it no more."

"Honest, now, what _is_ your name?"

"My name's-- Say, are you sure enough Ted Strong?"

"Certainly I am."

The boy came closer, looking at Ted fixedly.

"Gee, I wouldn't go inter that house fer a hundred million dollars."

"I've been here all night, and it didn't scare me any."

"That settles it. I reckon you must be Ted Strong. He's the only feller I ever heard of that wouldn't be scared to stay in a haunted house. How did you get there?"

Without hesitation, Ted told the boy how he had been held up by a man in an automobile, and knocked out by ammonia fumes, and then locked up in the house. But he said nothing about the murdered man in the next room.

"Now I've told you all about myself, it's only fair that you should tell me about yourself."

"Oh, I ain't nothin'. I'm just 'Scrub.'"

"Haven't you got any other name?"

"Nary one that I know of that's fastened to me all the time."

"How's that?"

Ted Strong's Motor Car Part 35

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Ted Strong's Motor Car Part 35 summary

You're reading Ted Strong's Motor Car Part 35. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Edward C. Taylor already has 556 views.

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