029 The Secret of the Lost Tunnel by Franklin W. Dixon

Author:Franklin W. Dixon [Dixon, Franklin W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XI

Pleasanton’s Bridge

A SHOUT went up from the onlookers at the shoot. Chet tried to grab Frank’s assailant, but the fellow gave him a quick shove which sent the stout boy sprawling. Then the stranger whirled and darted along the fringes of the crowd.

In a second Frank staggered to his feet. Despite the pain from the blow to his head, he set off after his adversary. Chet raced behind.

Joe, who had been attracted by the noise of the crowd, joined the chase.

As the attacker ran into the woods, Frank was hot on his trail. Suddenly a voice like chilled steel rang out.

“Stop where you are!”

A long rifle barrel protruded from behind a tree. Frank immediately recognized it as that of the youth.

In a flash Frank hurled himself to the ground, behind a bush. As he lay there, wondering what he should do next, the ambusher uttered a cry of pain. The weapon dropped from his grasp. Then the rifleman turned and dashed off through the brush like a streak of lightning.

“Are you all right, Frank?” came a voice behind him.

Frank rolled over to see his brother looking down at him anxiously.

“Did you do that?” Frank asked as he rose from the ground.

“Sure did. When I saw you drop, I figured something must be the matter. Then I spotted the rifle barrel sticking out from behind the tree, so I grabbed a rock and threw at it. Pretty good pitching if I do say so myself.”

“Glad you didn’t miss,” Frank remarked wryly, advancing with Joe toward the place where the weapon had fallen. “You probably saved my life!”

Frank picked up the rifle and the two boys returned to where they had left General Smith.

Enraged by the story of the unwarranted attack on Frank, the general immediately went to find an official to report the incident.

“Did you find out that guy’s name?” Frank asked his brother as they examined the firing piece.

“No. But maybe the general did. Here he comes now.”

General Smith hurried up with the judges of the meet. With them was a policeman. Joe told of the ambush incident.

“That kid won’t get away with this,” the policeman declared. “I’ll report it right away.”

Joe asked who the boy was.

The general answered. “He signed the registrar as Jimmy somebody, but he scribbled the last name. We can’t make it out.

“Probably done on purpose,” Frank remarked. Suddenly he snapped his fingers. “Why didn’t I think of it before? I’ll bet Jimmy is Junior of Bush’s gang! This rifle certainly looks like the one set as a trap in the woods!”

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of somebody crashing through the bushes. Out burst Chet, his clothes bedraggled and perspiration pouring from his face.

“Where’ve you been? Running a marathon?” Joe asked his friend, who was gasping for breath.

Frank threw his arm around the boy’s shoulders. “Take it easy, Chet. We can wait.”

When he was breathing normally again, Chet swallowed hard and said, “I saw him! I know where he went!”

“Who?”

“That guy who socked Frank.

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