The Motor Boys Overland | Page 7

on the western trip they were soon to make. For several miles
they kept on. Suddenly Jerry yanked the levers and put on the brakes.
"What's the matter?" asked Bob, as the auto came to a stop.
"There," replied Jerry, pointing ahead.
The boys looked and saw, a little in advance, a tumble-down hut, from
the window of which a light gleamed.
"That's queer," observed Jerry.
"What is, to see a light in a hut?" asked Bob.
"No; but in that particular one," replied Jerry. "I came past there day
before yesterday and I noticed that the place is almost ready to fall
apart. No one can be living in it, and any one who is there at night with
a light is there for no good purpose."

"Let's take a look," suggested Bob.
Jerry shut off the power, took out the spark plug and the boys advanced
cautiously, leaving the machine on one side of the road.
"Maybe there are tramps in there who won't like being spied on," said
Ned.
"Don't make any noise," was Jerry's answer. "Be ready to run when I
give the word."
On tiptoes the boys drew near the hut. Suddenly Bob grabbed Jerry by
the arm.
"What is it?" asked Jerry.
"Smell that?"
"Acetylene gas! Some one has been here with a gas lamp, and within a
few minutes," agreed Jerry, sniffing the peculiar odor.
"Isn't that a motor cycle leaning against the building?" asked Ned.
"Sure enough!" said Jerry. "Go slow, boys."
Walking like cats, they reached the window from which the light
streamed. As they glanced inside they saw a sight that startled them.
Lying on a pile of rags in one corner of the bare room, in the glare of a
candle, was an old man, with matted and unkempt hair and beard. His
face showed pain and suffering. His clothes were old and ragged. But
what attracted the attention of the boys was the fact that he wore about
his waist a wide leather belt, with several compartments or pockets in it.
The pockets were open and in them, as well as scattered on the floor in
front of the man, were little piles of yellow, gleaming gold.
"He's a miner!" whispered Bob, hoarsely.
As the boys watched they heard the old man moan:

"Don't rob me! Don't take what little I have left! If I wasn't sick and
suffering no one would dare play this trick on Jim Nestor!"
The next instant the boys heard a sound from the farther corner of the
room. Out of the semi-darkness came a figure. It stooped over the old
miner. There was the sound of a blow, a deep groan -- and then came
darkness as the candle was extinguished.
Some one ran rapidly from the hut.
"Help! help!" called the miner, feebly. "Help! He's robbed me!"

CHAPTER IV
A CHASE AFTER A RASCAL
"AFTER him!" cried Jerry. "Catch the miserable thief!"
"You and Bob chase him, whoever he is!" called Ted. "I'll stay with the
old miner here in the hut. He may be badly hurt."
"Hurry back to the auto!" shouted Jerry. "We can catch the thief in
that."
As he spoke he looked ahead. A dark figure crossed the patch of
moonlight in the rear of the hut. Then came a sound of a motor-cycle
being started, and soon the chug-chug of the machine on the road told
that the thief was escaping that way.
Jerry and Bob ran to the auto. In a trice Jerry had the engine cranked up.
Bob jumped in, followed by his companion, and they put off down the
road after the fleeing motor-cyclist, whom the moonlight plainly
revealed.
"He can't get away from us!" exclaimed Jerry. "We will overhaul him
in a jiffy!"

But Jerry reckoned without knowing who he was after. He did not dare
put on full speed, while the cyclist rashly had his machine going as fast
as the explosions could follow one after the other. Besides, the thief
had a good start with his light apparatus.
But Jerry determined to make the capture. He threw in the second speed
gear and in a little while had lessened the distance between the auto and
the motor-cycle.
"I wonder who it is?" asked Bob.
"Maybe we can tell," answered his chum. Jerry switched on the
searchlight in the front of the auto. A dazzling pencil of illumination
shot down the road.
In the white glare the figure of the motorist stood out sharply, and the
red motor he rode could be plainly seen. At the sight both boys gave a
start.
"Jack Pender!" exclaimed Bob.
"As sure as guns!" cried Jerry. "We must catch him!"
He was about to take chances and put on the third gear, when Pender,
on his cycle,