The Boy Inventors' Radio Telephone Part 6

"You saw us!" gasped the driver of the car, losing his bravado completely. "Well, I might as well admit we did run a man down. But we didn't think he was badly hurt and so we put on all speed to rush into town here and get a doctor for him. We'd have been here sooner only one of our tires punctured."

"Thet's a dern good story," said the chief, "but you'll hev ter 'splain that ter ther squire. Come on with me ter ther court-house. Too bad fer you thet them Chadwick boys had some sort of a do-funny dingus on their sky buggy that talks through the air, otherwise you'd hev got clar' away."

The man had, by this time, got out of the car which they halted at the side of the street. A crowd of curious villagers gathered and were staring at the scene and the actors in it.

At Chief Biff's words the driver of the red car flashed an angry look at the boys. His companions looked equally vindictive.

"So, it's to you we owe our arrest, is it?" he said in a low voice, coming quite close to Jack. "All right. You'll hear from me later. I'm not going to forget you or that other kid, either. Do you understand?"

Jack made no reply, and as he was anxious to get the injured man to the hospital as quickly as possible he drove off. At the inst.i.tution the man was carried to a cot by two orderlies, and the doctor in charge told the boys that, so far as he could see, his injuries were not mortal, although he added that a fracture of the skull was possible.

"In which case," he said, "his recovery is problematical. How did you happen to pick him up?" asked the doctor, who knew the boys quite well.

Jack told him as briefly as he could, and received the physician's warm congratulations.

"It was fortunate that you happened along," he said. "Otherwise a long exposure to the sun, unattended, might have resulted in the man's death. Have you any idea who he is?"

"Not the least," replied Jack. "All that we know is that, just after he had plodded round the corner as if he was tired after walking a long way, that auto came whizzing round and struck him. Somehow he doesn't look like a tramp."

"No, he doesn't," agreed the doctor. "However, he should be conscious to-morrow if there are no complications, and we can find out. One thing is certain, he ought to be grateful to you."

"Oh, that's all right," laughed Jack, much relieved to hear that the man wasn't going to die. "It was all we could do."

They drove back through the village. Outside the court-house was quite a crowd. Events were few and far between in sleepy Nestorville, and the arrest of the autoists had caused quite a sensation. From a friend in the crowd the boys learned that the three men were being arraigned before Squire Stevens.

"Let's go in," suggested Tom.

"All right," nodded Jack, and they climbed out of the Wonders.h.i.+p and ascended the long steps leading into the court-house. As they entered Squire Stevens' court-room, Chief Bivins spied them.

"Here they be now, Squire," he said. "Glad you came, boys. It saved me the trouble of serving subpoenas on you. These are the boys who saw the whole thing, judge."

"Was it an accident?" asked Squire Stevens, a dignified-looking old man with an imposing white beard.

"Yes, entirely so," said Jack, who did not bear any malice.

"But after they had struck the man, these young men ran away?"

"Yes," Jack was forced to admit. The men shot him a glance of hatred.

"I understand you have been to the hospital," went on Squire Stevens. "Did you learn how badly the man they hit is hurt?"

"The doctor told us that his injuries don't appear to be serious," said Jack, "but that it was possible there might be complications."

"In that case I shall have to hold you young men under bond," said the squire. "Will you be able to furnish it?"

"In any amount," said the man who had driven the car, in a loud, boastful voice. "My father, Evans Masterson, owns the _Boston Moon,_ the evening paper. If I can telephone to him he will soon get us out of this sc.r.a.pe."

"Very well, then," said the Squire, frowning slightly at young Masterson's tone. "I shall fix your bond at $500, as you were driving the car and directly responsible for the accident, and that of your companions at $100 each."

Young Masterson gave an ironical bow. Chief Biff Bivins escorted him to the telephone. The elder Masterson, who had had a good deal of experience with his son's escapades, at first administered a lecture over the 'phone which ended by his saying that he would come post-haste to Nestorville and extricate his son and his chums from their unpleasant fix.

But the boys did not wait for this. As soon as the case was over they hastened back to the Wonders.h.i.+p. The run home was made without incident and it was not till the Wonders.h.i.+p was safely in its shed that Jack suddenly thought of the odd cylinder of lead that he had picked up by the man's side as he lay on the road.

"I ought to have left it at the hospital," he thought, "but I entirely forgot it."

He drew it out and looked at it. He now saw that the lead cylinder enclosed a gla.s.s vial carefully corked and sealed. The bottle was wrapped in flannel. Jack could not withstand the temptation of pulling it out and looking at it. He hardly knew what he had expected to see, but he was distinctly disappointed, as was Tom, to find that the carefully protected vial contained nothing more than some dark, almost black, stuff that looked like sand. In it were particles that glittered like mica.

"Pshaw!" he exclaimed in a disappointed tone, "nothing but a bottle full of sand. Wonder why in the world that fellow carried trash like that so carefully wrapped up for?"

The solution of the question, which was near at hand, was to have an important bearing on the lives of the Boy Inventors, and that in the immediate future.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE LEADEN TUBE.

The following day, while they were experimenting and practicing with the radio telephone, the boys received word that the man in the hospital was conscious and wished to see them, if possible.

"Perhaps now we shall get some explanation of that queer tubeful of sand," said Jack, as he hung up the telephone receiver, having informed the physician that they would be at the hospital shortly.

"It's certainly a queer sort of thing for a man to carry about--a gla.s.s vial full of black grit so carefully protected, unless he is crazy or something," commented Tom.

"I think that there is some explanation back of all this," said Jack, "and for my part the sooner we get to the hospital, the better I shall be pleased. The man told the doctor he was a miner and his name is Zeb c.u.mmings. Perhaps that sand is gold-bearing or something like that."

"That might be the case," agreed Tom.

The boys decided to take out the electric car. It was in perfect running order and the indicator showed that there was plenty of electricity in storage for the start. They told Mr. Chadwick where they were going and then rolled out of the High Towers gates onto the broad, smooth road bordered with pleasant green elms.

They bowled along smoothly and silently with the car working as perfectly as delicate clockwork. They had gone about a mile from the house and were on a steep grade which the car took as easily as if it had been going down hill, when their attention was attracted by a sudden shout from the vicinity.

Jack brought the car to a halt. The voice came again.

"Hi! Help me! Ouch! Help!"

"What in the world is the matter now?" wondered Tom.

"Somebody in trouble in that field yonder. We'd better get out and see what's up," proposed Jack.

The shouts seemed to issue from beyond a high bank at one side of the road. On its summit was a hedge which prevented the boys seeing what was going on in the field that lay beyond.

As they got out of the car, however, Jack spied a bicycle at one side of the road. A satchel that he remembered very well was slung from its frame.

"It's the professor in trouble again!" declared Jack.

"I do believe you are right," replied Tom as they scrambled up the bank. "That's sure enough his wheel."

They found a gate in the hedge and on the other side an odd sight met their eyes. Kneeling on the ground was the professor. His right arm was thrust almost up to the shoulder into a hole in the ground. He was shouting l.u.s.tily for help and appeared to be imprisoned in his queer posture.

"Some animal has got hold of his hand," cried Jack. "Come on, Tom."

"Oh, boys, thank goodness you've come," gasped the scientist.

"What's the matter?" demanded Jack.

"I can't get my arm out of this hole," declared the professor.

"How did you get it in?" asked Tom.

"A fine specimen that I dropped accidentally rolled into it," was the reply. "I reached in to get it and now I can't get my hand out."

"But you got it in easily enough," said Jack in a puzzled tone.

"Ah, yes," replied the professor, "but then I didn't have my hand clenched. Now my fist is closed and I have the specimen in it. Oh, boys, it's a beauty. One of the finest I have ever seen. It shows distinct monolithic traces."

"But if you don't drop it you can't get your hand out," argued Tom.

"I know that. That's why I shouted for help," said the professor simply.

"You'll have to let go of it," decided Jack, almost choking with laughter at the plight of the eccentric little man.

"Let go of it? My dear sir," murmured the professor in a shocked tone, "this specimen is worth at least twenty dollars, not to speak of its scientific value."

"But you can't stay here," said Jack decisively.

"And I won't let go of the specimen," declared the professor with equal firmness.

"What on earth are we to do?" said Jack, looking helplessly at Tom.

Not far off Tom had noticed a man digging potatoes. It gave him an idea.

"We can borrow that man's shovel and dig his arm out," he suggested.

"It's about the only thing to do, I guess," said Jack. "You go and see if you can get it. I'll keep the professor company."

Tom soon came back. The potato-digger accompanied him. The man was much interested in the eccentric man's plight.

"If that ain't the beatingest I ever heard on," he remarked, gazing at the professor, and then he tapped his head significantly and looked at the boys in a knowing way.

"n.o.body home, eh?" he said with a grin. Fortunately the professor did not hear him; but the boys could hardly keep from laughing outright as they set to work with the spade. A few minutes of brisk digging set the professor at liberty and he was able to stand upright and triumphantly exhibit a small black rock which looked in no way remarkable, but which, it was evident, he esteemed highly.

"Ah, my little gem," he said, gazing at it fondly. "You thought you'd escape me; but you didn't. A wonderfully fine specimen, boys."

"Tell yer what," said the yokel, from whom they had borrowed the spade, "I'll pay you fifty cents a day to clean up my back pasture yonder. It's chock full of them black rocks."

"It is?" exclaimed the professor eagerly. "I must visit it some day. It would be worth writing a paper about. Most remarkable. A whole field of these stones. Well, well, this is a great day for science. But how did you boys happen to come along so opportunely?"

Jack explained, and then, suddenly, he thought of the tube of queer-looking black sand. Possibly the professor would know what it was. He drew it out and briefly narrated how he came in possession of it. The professor took the little gla.s.s vial out of its protecting lead and flannel. He adjusted his gla.s.ses and held it up to the light. Then he uncorked it and sprinkled a few grains on the palm of his hand.

He regarded it carefully for a few minutes and then drew out a huge magnifying gla.s.s. The next instant he dropped his scientific calm and uttered a sharp exclamation of astonishment.

"Where is the man who owns this?" he exclaimed. "We must see him at once."

CHAPTER XIV.

IN THE HOSPITAL.

"We are on our way to see him now," said Jack. "He is in the Nestorville hospital."

"May I go with you?" asked the professor, with astonis.h.i.+ng eagerness for him.

"Why, of course. But that black sand," said Jack. "What is it--gold-bearing material of some kind?"

"Gold!" exclaimed the professor with fine scorn, "gold would be dross beside it. Of course I haven't a.n.a.lyzed it yet, but if it is what I think it is, it is the most valuable stuff in the world."

The boys exchanged bewildered glances. Clearly their discovery of the injured man, Zeb c.u.mmings, had an aspect they had not hitherto suspected. But the professor refused to tell them what the sand was, or what he thought it was, till he had seen Zeb c.u.mmings himself.

Leaving the potato-digger under the firm impression that they were all crazy, they hurried back to the road, the professor's bicycle was placed in the tonneau, and Jack drove just within the speed law to the hospital.

They found the injured man sitting up in bed, his great yellow beard gleaming like gold. His head was bandaged but even the pallor induced by the accident had not materially altered the ruddy glow of his thick coat of tan.

"So these are the boys who saved me," he said, extending a big, gnarled hand. "Shake, pardners. The doc here tells me if I'd laid much longer out there in the sun, there might hev been a first-cla.s.s funeral fer Zeb c.u.mmings."

"Oh, that's all right," said Jack easily. "I'm only glad that we came along when we did."

"Well, you sure acted different from them other varmints," said Zeb with deep conviction. "The doc tole me all about it."

His face suddenly grew grave as he changed the subject.

"Did you find anything on the ground thereabouts after I got knocked out?" he asked.

"What sort of a thing?" asked Jack.

"Oh, nothing that looked very valuable. Jes' a little lead roll with a bottle full of what looked like black sand in it."