Picture Play Magazine (Mar-Aug 1916)

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Pickles and Pearls 105 forgotten about the wedding! The scoundrelly O'Byrne must be foiled !" He got to his feet, swaying slightly and supporting himself against the tree. "We have a long way to go/' remarked Charlie, also rising; "and the railroad is blocked to traffic. We cannot ride to Boggsville in the cars, Harold, but must seek other means of transportation. You and I were spared from the wreck just for this work. Let us be going. YVe will yet foil this pretended duke." "We will foil the duke!" repeated HarolcLbetween his teeth. "That is for me to do, and henceforth I shall work alone. What has become of Pridby?" "He escaped, and " "So/' breathed Harold, ''you allowed the wretch to escape ! I presume no more was to be expected of you, now that your perfidy has been revealed, and I know you for what you are. I tell you, I shall save Miss McTodd myself!" Thereupon, he turned away in wrath, waveringly climbed the embankment, and tottered off toward Boggsville along the railroad track. "The next few hours will tell the story, Harold de Yere," muttered Charlie, "and if I save the beautiful Lola McTodd the third time " He did not finish, but clenched his teeth, flourished his cane, and aimed straight for a wagon road that crossed the landscape in the near distance. Boggsville was forty miles away — but what were forty miles to him? CHAPTER XXXYII OXCE MORE TO THE RESCUE. The clocks in the little city of Lawton were striking twelve as Charlie turned into the main street. He had covered eight miles between ten o'clock and noon, and Boggsville was only thirtytwo miles away. Although weary, he first proceeded to the railroad station. De Yere, tramping the ties, had not yet been reported in and out of Lawton. "I am still in the lead," thought Charlie, and inquired his way to the nearest garage. A car and driver were to be had at three dollars an hour. Charlie had not three dollars in his pocket, but he had Mr. McTodd's check for a hundred dollars. He offered this to the proprietor of the garage, who insisted on a retainer. The proprietor's name was Leeson, and Leeson had cashed several checks for strangers with melancholy results. 'Til have to find out if this is good," said he. "Everybody knows Silas McTodd, of Boggsville," explained Charlie. "Why, he owns all Boggsville, including the pickle works. His check is good for a million." "But maybe," and Leeson looked Charlie over with a suspicious eye, "you have forged this check. Wait till I run over to the bank." Charlie had to wait. While he cooled his heels in front of the garage, a rattle of wheels on railroad iron dinned in his ears. He cast a glance in the direction of the railroad track, and saw a handcar going north. Harold de Yere was alone on the handcar, and, with tremendous industry, was bending to the bar that supplied the motive power. In trepidation, Charlie watched until he was out of sight. Something had to be done, and quickly. The roadster that was to take Charlie on to Boggsville stood in front of the garage. The man who was to do the driving had just filled the radiator from a bucket and was moving away. Charlie climbed into the car, and got under the steering wheel. "Hold on a minute!" shouted Leeson, on his way back from the bank. "McTodd's all right for any amount, but I