"I think a couple o' men an' some girls. I couldn't see very well, the machine run so fast. I had to hold my hoss, for I was afraid they'd run into me."
Several others had also seen the big enclosed touring car and all were sure it had taken to the old Snagtown road.
"Where does that road run to?" asked Dick.
"Goes over the hills to what used to be Snagtown," answered one of the men. "But there ain't no town now, since the mills closed down--only empty houses."
"Just the place they'd be likely to head for!" cried Tom, in a low voice to his brothers. "Come on, hurry up!"
Sam and Dick needed no urging, and having thanked the men for their information they started up the engine once more.
"How far is it to that deserted village?" called out Tom, as the _Dartaway_ was about to move off.
"Six miles!" shouted one of the crowd. "That is, by the road. The way you're going it ain't more'n four!" And this answer made the crowd laugh.
"Four miles," murmured Dick. "We ought to be able to head them off."
"I wish we were armed," came from Tom. "We may have some desperate characters to deal with."
"We might go back and get pistols," suggested Sam.
Dick thought for a moment. He knew well how desperate their enemies might become. He hated to lose the time but he realized it would be worse than useless to face a gang of four or more empty-handed. There was no telling what Sobber, Crabtree and the others might do if cornered.
"I guess we'd better go back and arm ourselves," he said. "It will create talk, but that can't be helped."
"It will create talk anyway, as soon as it is known that Dora and Nellie have been carried off," answered Tom.
"What do you care for the talk!" cried Sam. "What we want to do is to save the girls--and put those rascals where they belong, in jail!"
Then the biplane was turned back in a circle and soon the boys were back in Shepleytown, much to the astonishment of those who had but a few moments before seen them leave.
"Is there a hardware store handy?" asked Dick, of the first man who came up. He had told his brothers to let him do the talking.
"Sure--Bill Simmons's place, just down the street," answered the man, pointing with his finger.
"Thank you. Tom, bring that five-gallon gasoline can with you. Sam, you mind the machine," went on Dick, loudly.