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Then, as he thought of something else, he called out: "Say, Mark, there's no use of both of us going to the telegraph office. I'll go alone, as it's my fault, and you can stay here, and watch to see if that strange man appears on the scene. I'll not be long, and you can wait for me here." "How would it be if I went on a little nearer to the Preakness house?" asked Mark.
With thirty years to work, I can stop a world war. I'll have the means to do it, too." "The means?" "Unlimited wealth and influence. Here." Allan picked up a sheet and handed it to his father. "Used properly, we can make two or three million on that, alone. A list of all the Kentucky Derby, Preakness, and Belmont winners to 1970. That'll furnish us primary capital.
A hearty welcome, and a no less hearty meal having been here encountered and despatched, we rattled off again, through laden orchards and rich meadows; passed the confluence of the three bright rivers which issue from their three mountain gorges, to form, by their junction, the fairest of New Jersey's rivers, the broad Passaic; reached the small village noted for rum-drinking and quarter racing high Pompton thence by the Preakness mountain, and Mose Canouze's tavern whereat, in honor of Tom's friend, a worthy of the self-same kidney with himself, we paused awhile to Paterson, the filthiest town, situate on one of the loveliest rivers in the world, and famous only for the possession, in the person of its Catholic priest, of the finest scholar and best fellow in America, whom we unluckily found not at home, and therefore tasted not, according to friend Harry's promise, the splendid Innishowen which graces at all times his hospitable board.
By Jove!" he added, suddenly, "this is my first run under the Preakness blue." Even there and then he thought too quickly to speak her name. "Now, then, some of you crawl out to the south edge of the timber with me, and lie flat on the prairie and keep me in sight as long as you can." He took one more look at his revolver. "I'm drawing to a bob-tail.
We're out for all day, and there isn't anything that needs to be done at home, or around the projectile, so take your time." "Oh, I'll not go to sleep," declared Jack. "I want to see if we can't solve the mystery of the man who writes such queer notes." Jack started off across the fields at a swift pace, while Mark strolled on down the road, in the direction of the old Preakness house.
"I looked around pretty well this afternoon," explained Jack, when the farmer and his man had reached the barn, "but, of course, I didn't know all the nooks and corners." A thorough search of the structure, however, failed to reveal the presence of Mark, and then the farmer volunteered to accompany the party on to the old Preakness house.
"I can meet you there just as well as here, and something may develop." "Good idea! You go on, and when I come back, I'll take the road that leads through the old slate quarry, and save some time that way. I'll meet you right near the old barn that stands on the Gilbert property, just before you reach the Preakness grounds." "All right; I'll be there, but don't run your legs off.
He made a thorough inspection of the ramshackle old structure, but there was no evidence that Mark had entered it, and Jack was soon quite assured that no harm had befallen his friend in there. Then a sudden thought came to him. "Why, of course!" he exclaimed aloud. "I should have thought of that before. Mark got tired of waiting, and went on to the Preakness house. I might have known.
"You don't know where he lives, or whether he is staying in this vicinity, do you?" inquired Mark. "Ya'as, I think I do," replied the trapper. "Where?" cried Jack eagerly. "Wa'al, you know the old Preakness homestead, down by the bend of the creek, about four mile below here?" "Sure we know it," answered Mark. "We used to go in swimming not far from there."
The boys increased their pace, and were soon on the main road leading to the Preakness house, and about a mile away from it. "We'll soon be there now," remarked Jack. "Then we'll see if we can find that man." As he spoke, the lad put his hand in his pocket, and, a moment later, he uttered a startled cry. "What's the matter?" asked Mark, in some alarm. "Matter? Why, gee whiz!
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