That is so, admitted Mr. Pinkney, leaning over the forward seat. But he has an appetite like a boa constrictor.
A boy -constrictor, chuckled Neale. Ill say he has!
He would not likely stop anywhere along here to buy more food, then, Agnes said.
He could have gone off the road, however, for a dozen different things, said the missing boys father. That child has got more crotchets in his head than you can shake a stick at. There is no knowing
Hold on! ejaculated Neale suddenly. There are some kids down there by that pond. Suppose I run down and interview them?
I dont see anybody among them who looks like Sammy, observed Agnes, standing up in the car to look.
Never mind. You go ahead, Neale. They will talk to you more freely, perhaps, than they will to me. Boys are that way.
Ill try, said Neale, and jumped out of the car and ran down toward the roof of the old ice-house that the afternoon before had so attracted Sammy Pinkney incidentally wrecking his best trousers.
As it chanced, Neale had seen and now interviewed the very party of boys with whom Sammy had previously made friends. But Neale said nothing at first to warn these boys that he was searching for one whom they all considered a good kid.
Say, fellows, Neale began, was this an ice-house before it got burned down?
Yep, replied the bigger boy of the group.
And only the roof left? Crickey! What have you chaps been doing? Sliding down it? For he had observed as he came down from the car two of the smaller boys doing just that.
Its great fun, said the bigger boy, grinning, perhaps at the memory of what had happened to Sammy Pinkneys trousers the previous afternoon. Want to try?
Neale grinned more broadly, and gave the shingled roof another glance. I bet you dont slide down it like those little fellows I just saw doing it. How do their pants stand it?
The boys giggled at that.
Say! the bigger one said, there was a kid came along yesterday that didnt get on to that till afterward .
Oh, ho! chuckled Neale. He wore em right through, did he?
Yes, he did. And then he was sore. Said his mother would give him fits.
Where does he live? Around here? asked Neale carelessly.
I never saw him before, admitted the bigger boy. He was a good fellow just the same. You looking for him? he asked
with sudden suspicion.
I dont know. If hes the boy I mean he neednt be afraid to go home because of his torn pants. You tell him so if you see him again.
Sure. I didnt know he was running away. He didnt say anything.
Didnt he have a bag with him sort of a suitcase?
Didnt see it, replied the boy. We all went home to supper and he went his way.
Which way?
Could not tell you that, the other said reflectively, and was evidently honest about it. He was coming from that way, and he pointed back toward Milton, when he joined us here at the slide.
Then he probably kept on toward What is in that direction? and Neale pointed at the nearest road, the very one into which Sammy had turned.
Oh, that goes up through the woods, said the boy. Hampton Mills is over around the pond you follow yonder road.
Yes, I know. But you think this fellow you speak of might have gone into that by road?
He was headed that way when we first saw him, said the boy. Wasnt he, Jimmy?
Sure, agreed the smaller boy addressed. And, Tony, I bet he did go that way. When I looked back afterward I remember I saw a boy lugging something heavy going up that road.
I didnt see that that fellow had a bag, argued the bigger boy. But he might have hid it when he came down here.
Likely he did, admitted Neale. Anyway, we will go up that road through the woods and see.
Is his mother going to give him fits for those torn pants? asked another of the group.
Shell be so glad to see him home again, confessed Neale, that he could tear every pair of pants hes got and she wouldnt say a word!
He made his way up the bank to the car and reported.
I dont know where that woods-road leads to. I neglected to bring a map. But it looks as though we could get through it with the car. Well try, shant we?
Oh, do, Neale, urged Agnes.
I guess it is as good a lead as any, observed Mr. Pinkney. Somehow, I begin to feel as though the boy had got a good way off this time. Even this clue is almost twenty-four hours old.
He must have stayed somewhere last night, cried Agnes suddenly. If there is a house up there in the woods or beyond we can ask.
Right you are, Aggie, agreed Neale, starting the car again.
Sammy Pinkney is an elusive youngster, sure enough, said the truants father. Something has got to stop him from running away. It costs too much time and money to overtake him and bring him back.
And we havent done that yet, murmured Agnes.
The car struck heavy going in the road through the woods before they had gone very far up the rise. In places the road was soft and had been cut up by the wheels of heavy trucks or wagons. And they did not pass a single house not even a cleared spot in the wood on either hand.
If he started up this way so near supper time last evening, as those boys say, Mr. Pinkney ruminated, where was he at supper time?