I can't
leave word for him any other way, and I don't know what he'd think if he
came here and found the cycles and all gone. Then take him home with you,
will you? And I'll ring you up just as soon as I can. Good-bye!"
And everything being settled as far as he could foresee it then, Harry went
scooting off into the night on his machine. As he rode, with the wind
whipping into his face and eyes, and the incessant roar of the engine in
his ears, he knew he was starting what was likely to prove a wild-goose
chase. Even if he caught Graves, he didn't know what he could do, except
that he meant to get back the papers.
More and more, as he rode on, the mystery of Graves' behavior puzzled him,
worried him. He knew that Graves had been sore and angry when he had not
been chosen for the special duty detail. But that did not seem a sufficient
reason for him to have acted as he had. He remembered, too, the one glimpse
of Graves they had caught before, in a place where he did not seem to
belong.
And then, making the mystery still deeper, and defying explanation, as it
seemed to him, was the question of how Graves had known, first of all,
where they were, and of how he had reached the place.
He had no motorcycle of his own or he would not have ridden away on Dick's
machine. He could not have come by train.
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