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Page 61
"Yes, it may," agreed Tom. "But, taking everything into
consideration, I think we're on the verge of finding out
something. Even if we do discover that the owner of this auto is
only hauling wood, he may be able to help us to a clew as to the
whereabouts of Mr. Nestor."
"How?"
"Well, maybe he was in his machine on the moor the night the
call for help came. He may even have aided to carry Mr. Nestor
away. And if he doesn't know a thing about it--which, of course,
is possible--the man who bought these queer tires can tell us who
makes them, or who deals in them, and we can find out what
autoists around here have their cars equipped with this odd
tread."
"Yes," agreed Jackson, "that can be done."
And so they kept on, scouting here and there to either side of
the half-defined path, until they were far back from the spot
where they had left the Air Scout.
"We don't appear to be getting any warmer, as the children
say," remarked Jackson, as he straightened up and looked about,
for his back ached from so much stooping over to look for the odd
marks.
"We haven't seen anything yet, I'll admit," said Tom. "But it
won't be dark for another hour or so, and I vote that we keep
on."
"Oh, I wasn't thinking of giving up!" exclaimed Jackson. "If
there's anything here--at the end of the route, as you might say
--we'll find it. Only I hope it doesn't turn out to be just a
wood pile, from which some farmer has been hauling logs."
"That would be a disappointment," assented Tom.
The day was waning, and they realized that they ought not to
spend too much time on what might turn out to be a wild goose
chase. They were in a lonely neighborhood, and while they were
not at all apprehensive of danger, they felt it would be best to
get to shelter before dark.
"We'll want to send word to Mr. Swift that we're all right."
"Yes," said Tom, "I'd like to get to a place where I can
telephone to him or Mrs. Baggert. Well, if we don't find
something pretty soon we'll have to turn back. I must complete
work on the new motor, for if I'm to offer it to Uncle Sam for
air scout purposes, the sooner I can do so the better. Things are
getting pretty hot over in Europe, and if ever the United States
needed aircraft on the western front they need them now. I want
to help all I can, and I also want to help Mary--you understand--
Miss Nestor."
"I understand," said Jackson simply. "I only hope you can help
her. But I'm afraid--this may turn out to be nothing--following
these marks, you know."
"And yet," said Tom slowly, "it would be strange if it was only
a coincidence--the two tire marks being the same--the night Mr.
Nestor disappeared and now."
And so they kept on, hoping.
The half-defined path through the wood-lot led them in a series
of turns and twists, and it extended through a dense patch of
woods, growing thickly, where it was so dark that it seemed as if
night had fallen.
"We can't spend much more time here," said Tom. "If we don't
find something in the next half mile we'll go back and take up
the search to-morrow. I'm going to find out what's at the end of
this road--even if it's only a wood pile."
For ten minutes more the two went on, making sure, by
occasional glimpses at the marks, that they were on the right
track. Then, suddenly, they saw something which made them feel
sure they had reached their goal.
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