CHAPTER VI

A Narroiv Escape

"throw your weight back!"

Frank shouted the warning as the car balanced ou the ledge, ready to topple into the gully at any moment. When it settled into the sandy loam, he said:

"Climb into the back, Joe. Then I'll try to get out this door."

With catlike movements, Joe slowly crawled over the back of the seat and into the lap of Chet, who was quaking with fear.

"Nice work," said the general, approving l<raru» s plan.

The added ballast in the rear made it safe for Frank to open his door.

"Hold everything for a second," he said. "lAi get a rope from the trunk compartment."

He pulled out a sturdy length of hemp and tied

41

42 The Secret of the Lost Tunnel

one end to the bumper and the other to a near-by tree.

"Okay!" he called. "It's fast."

With a long whistle of relief, Joe opened the right-hand door and stepped out. Chet and General Smith followed.

"Whew!" said Chet. "Maybe I should have stayed home to take pictures. It's too dangerous down South."

"Let's get this car back on the road," Frank said. "Maybe we can overtake the guy who tried to ditch us!"

"Look! Here comes a truck!" Frank cried out. "Let's get the driver to pull us out of here."

He stepped onto the highway and flagged a big van, which came to a halt in front of him.

"Need some help?" the man called.

"Sure do," Frank replied. "Will you tow us back onto the road?"

"Righto."

The driver maneuvered his truck into position and helped Frank and Joe untie the towrope from the tree and attach it to the rear end of the truck. Then he eased the boys' car to the edge of the highway.

"Guess you'll be okay now," he said.

They thanked the driver, who waved a cheery

A Narrow Escape 43

good-bye, saying he w7as glad to have been of service. As the truck rumbled off, Frank lifted the hood of the coupe and examined the motor. With Joe helping, he took the carburetor strainer off.

"Water in the gas line," he announced.

"Put in by that sneak back at Dinah's restaurant," Joe declared hotly. "Say, do you think he was the guy in that car we thought was trailing us?"

"Right," Frank agreed. "And he followed us, knowing the motor would stall sooner or later. He hoped to get us in a bad jam."

"I'll bet Dr. Bush is responsible," Joe declared. "Cut if he thinks we went over into that gully, he's got a big surprise coming. We're right on his trail now."

The general smiled wanly. "That would be fine if we knew who Dr. Bush is."

The coupe sputtered along to a service station. There the watery gasoline was drained out, and new fuel put in. The foursome set off again. Mile after mile raced beneath the wheels of the car as it steadily neared the old battlefield of Rocky Run.

"We'll stop on the outskirts of Centerville," General Smith said. "I have a home there. We'll make it our headquarters."

Late in the afternoon they drove through the little town of Centerville. The main street, paved with

44 The Secret of the Lost Tunnel

red brick, was flanked by two rows of oak trees. Behind them quaint old houses stood in the shade of blossoming magnolias.

Farther on, the street gave way to a square, on the edge of which sprawled a handful of stores, a small but stately courthouse, and a tall-pillared hotel. A. solitary, bewhiskered man sat on the porch of the hostelry, smoking and rocking.

"Looks mighty sleepy around here," diet remarked. "I think I'm going to fit right in with this life."

"A peaceful old town," the general replied, smiling. "My place is a quarter mile down the road."

Frank drove on, and presently the general pointed out a driveway, which cut through a thick hedge of boxwood.

"Here's headquarters," he said as Frank stopped before a yellow, clapboard house with tall, shuttered windows and doors, nestled far back from the road.

"What a swell place!" Chet exclaimed. "I'm going to sit under this big tree and eat and sleep-"

"I thought you were the official photographer on this mission," the general said, his eyes twinkling.

"Correct!" Frank agreed as they carried their luggage into the house. "Hup, two, three, four! Come on, Chet, there's work to be dene."

The wing of the general's home, which he said

A Narrow Escape 45

they would use, consisted of a long living room, a kitchen, and two bedrooms above. General Smith ushered the boys into the larger of the bedrooms.

"You fellows will bunk here," he said.

"Pretty fancy bunks," Frank remarked, eying the mahogany four-poster bed, large enough for the three boys, and silk hangings at the windows.

General Smith grinned. "I picked this place up cheap and have left it just the way it was. But for us it's just headquarters."

"When do we shove off on the offensive?" Frank asked.

"Not until tomorrow morning," the officer replied. "I'd like you boys to get acquainted with Centerville first."

"What I want to know," Chet piped up, "is where chow is!"

"Follow me." The general led the way downstairs and into the kitchen. He opened the door of a shiny white refrigerator, whose shelves were laden with food.

"Wow!" Chet exclaimed. "How did this happen?"

"Centerville's butcher has a duplicate key to this house," the general explained. "I sent Mr. Oakes a wire instructing him 10 provision up for four hungry men.'

46 The Secret of the Lost Tunnel

The boys set to work preparing the evening meal. When they finished eating, General Smith suggested they set off for town.

Evening was casting long shadows on the square when they arrived in Centerville. General SrniJi pointed out several large houses whose history dated from the Revolution, then stopped to talk with two men lounging on the hotel steps.

"How's everything?" he asked, after introducing the boys as friends from the North.

"Tolerable good," said one of the men, a gaunt-faced fellow who answered to the name of Jeb. "But there's too many furriners aroamin' these parts."

Frank, Joe, and Chet colored up. Did he mean them? The general shot an uneasy glance at Jeb, then bade the men good night.

"What do you think Jeb meant by foreigners?" Joe asked when they were out of earshot of the men.

"One of two things," the officer replied. "He could have meant you boys, of course, but he probably meant some other strangers that have come to Centerville. Maybe Bush. I don't like it. lew tourists visit the town this time of year."

When they returned to the house, General Smith and the boys discussed the plans for the next day.

"It seems to me," Frank said, "that the best way to try locating the missing bandoleer would be to

A Narrow Escape 47

reconstruct the movements of the spy Bingham."

"Good idea," the general agreed. "Tomorrow we'll go to the farmhouse where my grandfather had his headquarters. The main part is still intact; lies just off the battlefield."

"Anybody living there?" Joe asked.

"No; it's a private museum with an old Negro caretaker. People seldom visit it any more."

"What'll we do when we get there?" Chet wanted to know.

"Put ourselves in Charles Bingham's place," Frank replied. "Suppose, Chet, that you're the spy, and that camera over your shoulder is the bandoleer, what would you do?"

Chet grinned. "Take a picture."

His friends laughed. Joe, yawning, said he was going to hit that four-poster so he could be good and fresh in the morning. The rest followed him upstairs.

"Hurry, Frank," Joe said.

"Why?"

"Chet snores."

The next morning, the general, his two boy detectives, and their "photographer" drove to Rocky Run. Low, undulating hills, with fringes of trees like Indian topknots, spread before them as they approached the battlefield.

48 The Secret of the Lost Tunnel

"It wasn't as still and peaceful as this in 1863," th? officer remarked, surveying the fields and woodlands. "Well, there's Grandfather's headquarters."

Prank drove up to the old building and let the motor idle. What remained of the one-story farmhouse was in fair condition, with ivy vines blotting out parts of the red brick. Off to the left stood two stone pillars, which apparently had been the corner supports of a porch. On the right could be seen the crumbling remains of a wing. Two windows stood bleakly on either side of a large door which bore a metal sign Rocky Run Museum.

"We'll park here," the general said. "Now, figuring that the spy Bingham left this spot with the bandoleer, which way would he go?"

Frank and Joe pondered for a moment. To then astonishment Chet set off like a hound after a hare, Soon he was out of sight of the old farmhouse and1 into a clump of trees on the brow of a little hill. As he looked around, Chet said to himself:

"I think Bingham went right up here to get a better view of the battle."

Suddenly Chet had the uncomfortable feeling that he was being spied upon. He saw something duck behind a thicket off to one side.

He decided to turn the tables on the spy. He Tfould take his picture! Unlimbering his camera

A Narrow Escape 49

as he went, diet cautiously approached the bushes. Sighting the figure through his telescopic view finder, the boy retreated a few paces to get the object in proper focus. The next moment the figure fled ivom the bushes.

Simultaneously Chet stepped back into space and disappeared!