CHAPTER XII

THE PROFESSOR IS MISSING

“What’s the matter?” cried Jerry.

“Something is wrong!” exclaimed Ned.

“Are they hurt?” asked Bob.

The two figures in the station doorway--Mr. Brill and the agent--were struggling to arise. Jim Nestor, perhaps with a half-formed notion that somebody was trying to rob his friend, made a motion toward his hip pocket, and then thought better of it.

The large lady, casting aside her shawl, made a rush for the two on the floor. Grasping Mr. Hitter by his coattails, she lifted him to his feet with ease--for he was not a large man. Then she assisted Mr. Brill to arise.

“Are you hurt, Harvey?” she cried. “Oh, say you’re not hurt! I couldn’t bear to hear that, and me just finding you! Oh, Harvey, have you lost any money? Are you hurt?”

Mr. Brill pulled himself away. He eyed Mr. Hitter for a moment as though he thought the agent might be responsible, and then he turned his gaze on the large woman.

“No, I’m not hurt,” he said. “I--I’m all right. When is our train due?” he asked of the boys.

“Oh, Harvey, you’re not going away again--after I have just found you; are you?” exclaimed the woman. “Aren’t you coming to live with your dear aunt, and the children and your uncle? Your uncle hasn’t any work now, and I know he’ll be glad to see you.”

“I expect he will,” said Mr. Brill, gloomily; “only he isn’t going to see me. If that train doesn’t come soon, I’m going to walk!” he added, desperately.

“There’s the whistle!” exclaimed Ned.

“But what’s it all about?” asked Jerry.

“Oh, Harvey, don’t leave me!” pleaded the big woman, again making a rush for him.

“Keep her back--somebody!” cried Mr. Brill. “Don’t let her get hold of me. Hurry out to the train.”

Once more he made a rush for the door.

“Look here!” cried Mr. Hitter. “You’re the fellow who found the gold on the track, and nearly had the railroad torn up in consequence. Are you going to do it again? Are you going to look for more gold?”

“I am not!” fairly yelled Mr. Brill. “Let me get aboard the train!”

Once more the whistle shrilly sounded.

“Come on!” cried the Westerner, making a break for the door, and pushing Mr. Hitter aside.

“Stop! Wait for me, Harvey!” cried the large woman. “I want you to come with me. We need you--the children need you. Did you bring any gold with you from the West? Oh! I have had such a time finding you.”

“Come on!” cried Mr. Brill. “If I don’t get away now I never will!”

The train pulled into the station, and the Westerner fairly threw himself aboard. Mr. Hitter rushed off to look after some baggage, and Jim Nestor and the boys followed their excited friend.

“What’s it all about?” asked Bob, much puzzled.

“Give it up,” replied Jerry. “Maybe that’s one of the poor relations he was telling about, who want him to support them. He’ll tell us in the train, I guess. Come on, Professor!”

“Wait! Wait!” cried the stout lady; but with a wave of his hand Mr. Brill disappeared into the smoker.

The motor boys climbed up the steps of the coach. Professor Snodgrass, making a grab for a rare bug he saw at the last moment, followed. The big woman attempted to board the train, but it was too late, and as it pulled out of the station she was last seen running after the cars, while, in the smoker, Mr. Brill was heard to say with much fervor:

“Oh what a lucky escape!”

“What was it all about?” asked Jerry, when they were all together in the parlor car where they had seats, Mr. Brill having moved forward. “Was she one of your relations?”

“She was,” answered the miner, “and one of the worst. She called herself my aunt, but she was more like a forty-second cousin. For years I almost supported her and her family. Her husband won’t work--he thinks he’s got heart disease. I gave her what I could spare, and more too, just as I did a whole lot of others who thought because I was a gold miner, that I was rich. But I wasn’t.

“How she found out I was in the East I don’t know, but some of the poor relations out West must have sent word that I had come on. Then she traced me--though I don’t know how--and I suppose she came for money. But I got away--thank goodness! I got away. If she had found me earlier she’d have made life miserable for me. I had--well, you know what,” he added, in a whisper, referring to the sixty nuggets of gold. “It had to be kept quiet, and that’s why I didn’t want to get the sheriff and a posse to recover my stuff. Word would have gotten out that I had it and then--well, I wouldn’t have had it, that’s all.”

“I guess you’re safe now,” remarked Ned, with a smile, as he recalled the scene of excitement in the depot.

“But she was very determined,” added Bob.

“She was something like you, Chunky--in build,” spoke Jerry, dryly. “Well, we’re off, anyhow.”

The train sped through familiar scenery and the boys and their friends gave themselves up to the delights of it. Mr. Snodgrass busied himself making notes of the specimens he had captured.

A few seats up from where our friends sat, was a man with a very black moustache, very “loud” clothing, and a watch chain that looked strong enough to restrain a bulldog. He had cast curious glances at the party as they boarded the train, and he looked particularly at Mr. Nestor and Mr. Brill. Presently he sauntered in their direction, and, pulling out a cigar case, said:

“I guess I’m right in sizing you folks up for a party of prospectors and miners; am I not?”

For a moment there was silence, and then Jerry asked:

“What makes you think so?” for the lad feared they had by accident mentioned the hidden gold.

“Oh, these gentlemen look like grub-stakers who have struck it rich,” and he indicated the two Westerners. “Will you come back and have a smoke with me?” he invited.

Jim Nestor looked at Jerry, who shook his head slightly.

“I guess we don’t care to smoke, stranger,” said the mine superintendent. “And, as for sizing us up as prospectors who have struck it rich, you’ve got another guess coming. We’re out with Professor Uriah Snodgrass in a search for luminous snakes.”

“Snakes! Huh!” exclaimed the man, who looked like a gambler or “sport.”

“Exactly!” exclaimed the professor, hearing his favorite topic mentioned. “Snakes of light--_illustris serpensus_--Do you happen to know anything of them, sir?”

“Who, me? I should say not!” and the man, evidently much disappointed, moved away.

“He got his all right!” chuckled Ned.

“Yes; evidently he thought to scrape an acquaintance and get us to talk,” said Jerry.

“But he had no use for bug-hunters!” chuckled Mr. Brill. “That’s a good stunt, boys; to pretend to be scientists. We’ll keep it up. We can’t be too careful.”

They traveled all that day and night, little of incident occurring. The black-moustached man did not trouble them further. The next day found them well on their way to the border.

The car they were traveling in was a comfortable one, and they would not have to change for some time. There was a dining coach attached to the train, and Bob rejoiced in looking over the bill of fare when he had nothing else to do.

It was on the second day out, and toward evening when they were just beginning to think about supper that Jerry, who had been walking through the train to “stretch his legs,” came back to his friends.

“Have any of you seen the professor?” he asked, and his voice was a bit troubled.

“The professor?” asked Ned. “Why, he was here a while ago, making notes to beat the band.”

“So I saw,” spoke Jerry. “Then I noticed him get up to go for a drink of water. He didn’t come back, and I went looking for him. He isn’t on the train, as far as I can find, and we haven’t made any stops since.”

“Could he have fallen off?” asked Bob, uneasily.

“By Jove!” cried Ned. “It would be just like him. He may have gone on the platform, seen a rare bug, and in reaching for it lost his balance and fallen off. I wonder----”

But Ned did not continue. At that instant the train came to a sudden stop with a grinding of brakes--such a sudden stop that nearly everyone in the car was thrown from his seat.

“An accident!” yelled Bob.

“We’re going to smash!” cried Ned.

“Something has happened to the professor!” came from Jerry.

“Maybe it’s a hold-up!” ejaculated Jim Nestor, and this time he drew from his hip pocket something shining. Harvey Brill followed his example.