CHAPTER XXVI
THE TRAMP RENDEZVOUS
"Come on!" cried Joe to Reggie Varley, not giving that astonished youngman a chance to greet him. "Come on! Got plenty of gas?"
"Gas? Yes, of course. But where? What is it? Are they after you?"
"Not at all. We're after _them_!" laughed Joe. He could afford to laughnow, for he felt that he was about to be vindicated.
"But I--er--I don't understand," spoke Reggie, slowly. "Where is it youwant to go?"
"After the tramp who rifled the valise you suspected me of opening inthat way-station some time ago," answered Joe quickly. "We're after himto prove I didn't do it!"
"Oh, but my dear Matson--really now, I don't believe you took it. Siswent for me red-hot, you know, after you told her. She called me allkinds of a brute for even mentioning it to you, and really----"
He paused rather helplessly, while Joe, taking the situation into hisown hands, climbed up beside Reggie, who was alone in his big car. Theyoung pitcher motioned for Pop to get into the tonneau, and the veterandid so, still wondering what was going to happen.
"It's all right," laughed Joe, more light-hearted than he had been inmany months. "If you'll take us to Shiller's Woods you may see somethingthat will surprise you."
"But still I don't understand."
Joe explained briefly how Hogan, the railroad tramp, had boasted ofrobbing a valise corresponding to Reggie's. Hogan was now within fivemiles of Pittston, hiding in a tramps' camp, and if he was arrested, orcaught, he might be made to tell the truth of the robbery, clear Joe,and possibly inform Reggie where the watch and jewelry had been disposedof.
"I don't suppose he has any of it left," said Reggie, simply. "There wasone bracelet belonging to sis that I'd like awfully much to get back."
"Well, we can try," answered Joe, hopefully.
"Sometimes," broke in Pop, "those fellows can't dispose of the stuffthey take, and then they hide it. Maybe we can get it back."
"Let's hope so," went on Reggie. "And now, where do you want to go? I'lltake you anywhere you say, and I've got plenty of gas."
"Shiller's Woods," returned Joe. "Do you know where it is, Pop?"
"Yes. I've been there--once or twice."
"And now," went on Joe, as he settled back in the seat, still in hisbaseball uniform, as was Pop Dutton, "how did you happen to be here?"and he looked at Reggie.
"Why, I had to come up in this section on business for dad, and sisinsisted that I bring her along. So we motored up, and here we are. Sisis at the Continental."
"Our hotel!" gasped Joe. "I didn't see her!" His heart was beatingwildly.
"No, I just left her there," returned Reggie. "She is wild to see thesefinal games----"
"I hope she sees us win," murmured Joe.
"But about this chase," went on Reggie. "If we're going up against a lotof tramps perhaps we'd better have a police officer with us."
"It wouldn't be a bad idea," agreed Pop. "We can stop and pick up arailroad detective I know. They'll be glad of the chance to raid thetramps, for they don't want them hanging around."
"Good idea," announced Joe, who was still puzzling over the manner inwhich things fitted together, and wondering at the absurdly simple wayin which Reggie had appeared on the scene.
The car sped away from the ball field, purring on its silent, powerfulway. Pop Dutton gave directions as to the best roads to follow, and alittle distance out of Pittston he called a halt, in order that arailroad detective might be summoned.
They found one at a small branch freight station, and this man called acompanion, so there were five who proceeded to the rendezvous of thetramps in Shiller's Woods.
It is not a difficult matter to raid the abiding place of the men,unfortunates if you will, who are known as "hoboes," and tramps. Theyare not criminals in the usual sense of the term, though they willdescend to petty thievery. Usually they are "pan-handlers," beggars andsuch; though occasionally a "yegg-man," or safe-blower, will throw inhis lot with them.
But for the most part the men are low characters, living as best theycan, cooking meager meals over a camp fire, perhaps raiding hen-roostsor corn fields, and moving from place to place.
They have no wish to defy police authority, and usually disappear at thefirst alarm, to travel on to the next stopping place. So there was nofear of any desperate encounter in this raid.
The railroad detectives said as much, and expressed the belief that theywould not even have to draw their revolvers.
"We'll be glad of the chance to clean the rascals out," said oneofficer, "for they hang around there, and rob freight cars wheneverthey get the chance."
"But we'd like a chance to talk to them--at least to this Hogan,"explained Joe. "We want to find what he did with Mr. Varley's jewelry."
"Well, then, the only thing to do is to surround them, and hold themthere until you interview them," was the decision. "I guess we can doit."
Shiller's Woods were near the railroad line, in a lonesome spot, and theoutskirts were soon reached. The auto was left in charge of a switchmanat his shanty near a crossing and the occupants, consisting of the twodetectives, Joe, Pop and Reggie, proceeded on foot. They all carriedstout cudgels, though the officers had revolvers for use in emergency.
But they were not needed. Pop Dutton knew the way well to a littlehollow where the tramps slept and ate. He led the others to it, and soquietly did they approach that the tramps were surrounded before theyknew it.
Down in a grassy hollow were half a dozen of them gathered about a fireover which was stewing some mixture in a tomato can, suspended over theflame on a stick, by means of a bit of wire.
"Good afternoon, boys!" greeted one of the officers, as he stood up, andlooked down on the men. It was apparent at first glance that Hogan wasone of them. Pop had silently indicated him.
The tramps started up, but seeing that they were surrounded settled backphilosophically. Only Hogan looked eagerly about for a way of escape.
"It's no go," said one of the railroad detectives. "Just take it easy,and maybe you won't be so badly off as you imagine."
Hogan had been found at last. It developed that Pop had asked his former"friends of the road" to keep track of him, and send word when located.This had been done by the ragged man who accosted the old player on thediamond that afternoon.