Читать книгу The Valdmere Mystery or The Atomic Ray - Milo Milton Oblinger - Страница 8

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Japanese! A green car! Ted rushed over, slammed his money down on the counter and darted out to the sidewalk in an effort to find out where the car had gone. It was just turning a corner down at the far end of the main street. Realizing that not a moment was to be lost, he ran back to Miss Valdmere’s car, jumped in and hurried away in hot pursuit.

He overtook his quarry within three blocks. The Japanese delegation had pulled in to one side of the road and two of their members alighted and were now conferring with the blue-coated figure of Langdon Prairie’s only policeman. While still a block away, Ted had made his plan. He, too, drew to the same side of the street, shut off his motor and hopped out. Walking slowly, he approached the three men, the town constable and the two Japanese. Ears alert as he came within hearing distance, he could hear the Japanese spokesman, a dapper little fellow, speaking in a melodious voice, using perfect English.

“We have reason to believe that a tall, thin man, past middle age, white hair and a closely cut mustache, came to this town sometime early this morning in company with two Russians, rather repulsive-looking men. They were driving a large gray car, a sedan. Did you see anything of them?”

“Can’t say that I did,” Ted heard the constable answer. “Anyway—” a little belligerently, “what about it?”

“It is very important that we should find the man whose description we have given you.”

“What’s his name?” blurted out the constable.

The Japanese replied in so low a voice that Ted, who had already passed them, could not hear the answer. But a moment later, he did hear the Japanese thanking the officer of the law. Taking a hasty look back over his shoulder, he saw them jump into their car and depart. No sooner had the big green automobile disappeared around the next corner than he, too, was accosting the policeman.

“The two Japanese whom you were speaking with just now were making inquiries about the same person that I am trying to find.”

So surprised was the guardian of law and order of Langdon Prairie that he choked and nearly swallowed a fresh cud of tobacco.

“You!” he exclaimed, his watery, blue eyes giving Ted a swift appraisal that ran from head to foot.

“Yes, sir. I am looking for the same man. A friend of mine and this man’s daughter, Miss Valdmere, are in my party.”

“Valdmere!” the constable’s jaws suddenly clamped. “Yer mean that crazy professor chap what’s been doin’ all them queer things over at Brownsville?”

“Yes, sir,” said Ted again.

“But why are they looking fer him?”

“For the same reason that we are, I suppose. He has disappeared. There is every reason to believe that he was forcibly taken from his estate early this morning. His daughter was the first to discover that he had gone and set out here in search for him. She found a bit of paper in his office with the name of this town written upon it. She believes he was forcibly taken from his office by a desperate band of men. A safe was also blown open and part of its contents stolen.”

“The motive was robbery then,” gasped the astute and still gaping upholder of the law.

“I dare say,” said Ted.

The constable whittled off another chew of tobacco from a convenient plug, staring at Ted thoughtfully.

“If I’m gonna help you, I’d like to get particulars first hand from this young lady what you claim is the professor’s daughter. If you don’t mind, you can drive me over to where she is an’ I’ll have a talk with her.”

Ted explained that Miss Valdmere and Philo had hurried away on an important errand but that he expected them to return shortly. He handed him the note which had been left in the car by his chum. The other examined it with interest.

“Who’s this man Philo?” he grunted, studying the signature.

“He’s my friend, the one I spoke of,” replied Ted. “Miss Valdmere is with him. They were waiting for me to return from an errand. From what it says, I understand they’ve picked up a clue.”

“A hot clue,” read the constable.

“Yes, according to Philo. But they’re here in Langdon Prairie somewhere and should be back soon.”

“How long have they been away?” came the next question.

Ted looked at his watch. “A little over an hour now.”

The constable glared over his spectacles and spat in the dust of the street. He delivered himself of an ultimatum:

“Well, there ain’t nothin’ to be gained by sittin’ here. It’s up to us to get busy. I reckon that you’re friends is so plumb occupied right now that they ain’t even thinkin’ about comin’ back. My suggestion is to drive ’round the town an’ keep on drivin’ till we find a trace of ’em.”

The suggestion was immediately acted upon. They moved out into the increasing traffic of Langdon Prairie’s main street and, with the constable pointing out the way, commenced driving about the town. For twenty minutes they drove steadily. They were completing the third lap around the village’s residential section, when, glancing up in the mirror in front of him, Ted saw the reflection of a gray car speeding along close behind them. He recognized the driver at once. It was the Russian.

Cheeks flushing with anger, Ted stared his defiance through the mirror and put on speed. But to no avail. The gray car continued to keep close behind him. In desperation, finally, he drew in to the side of the street and came to a sudden, jarring stop. The gray car stopped, too. The policeman stared at Ted in amazement.

“What’s the big idea?” he inquired.

“Look behind you.”

The constable turned his head and scowled back. For a space of probably two minutes he forgot to chew his tobacco. His hand whipped inside his blouse and came out holding a deadly-looking six-gun. Mumbling something to Ted, he clambered out of the car.

Whatever other qualifications the constable might have lacked, courage was not one of them. Heels striking heavily along the gravelled road, he proceeded straight back to the occupants of the second car and demanded an explanation.

“You’re gonna stop followin’ us or I’ll know the reason why,” he concluded.

“If the young man do not wish to incur trouble,” calmly replied the driver of the gray car, “you can tell heem not to interfere in matters not his own. An’ what I say about heem applies to you also.”

Ted did not hear the constable’s reply. It was drowned in a splitting roar similar to that made by an exploding tire. His first impression was that the policeman had fired point-blank at the insolent Russian. He felt suddenly so weak and dazed that he had scarcely the strength to turn his head. Then as if in a dream, he heard the grinding of gears, saw the gray car leap out into the road past the prostrate figure of the constable lying in the road, and then quickly ducked his head. A bullet zipped past him, smashing the windshield. A fragment of flying glass cut the back of his head.

The gray car disappeared in a furious cloud of dust. He could hear people running, saw the constable wriggling there in the road and, stumbling out of the car, he ran back and raised the wounded man’s head.

“Where are you hit?” he choked.

The constable opened his eyes but did not reply. Others were around them now staring open mouthed. A big man assisted Ted to carry the policeman to Miss Valdmere’s car, puffing as he did so.

“We must get Mr. Colby to the hospital. I’m afraid he’s badly wounded. I’ll go with you and show you the way.”