It was a direct result of Gaines' tongue wagging much more loosely than reasonable discretion would have counseled, to say nothing of sound sense, that information concerning the scheming of himself and his fellow conspirators reached the Auto Boys.

In the first place Soapy made the boast in Knight & Wilder's garage that, when the Auto Boys set out on the tour, the object of which was shrouded in such mystery, his own car might not be so far behind but that somebody would look "about like thirty cents," when somebody arrived at somebody's very secret destination.

Again, the same afternoon, to a crowd of young fellows gathered for baseball practice he made such broad hints concerning the Auto Boys and a mysterious spot marked by stones piled near it, many years ago, that the dullest of them could not but connect the same with the journey Phil Way and his friends were known to have in prospect.

It was the most natural thing imaginable that, being very friendly indeed with Phil, Billy, Paul and Dave, and by no means an ardent admirer of the Chosen Trio, Ed Wilder improved his earliest opportunity to tell the former of Soapy Gaines' words and half-jocular, half-threatening manner. With equal promptitude, also, a half-dozen or more of the baseball enthusiasts let it be known that, whatever the well-concealed plans and purposes of the Auto Boys might be, Gaines and Pickton, and very probably Perth, as well, had obtained information in regard to them.

Thus did Soapy's exact words, in some instances, and the substance of them in others, reach the four friends at one time and another before twenty-four hours had passed.

"Hard to tell whether they think it would be just a joke to follow after us or whether they intend to be low-down, sneaking mean," said Phil Way, as the well-nigh inseparable quartette discussed the situation in the green and yellow garage.

"I don't see that that's the important thing. The main question is, how did the three of 'em find out so much," was Billy Worth's observation. "Of course we know that our intention to go on a trip is common property; but wherever could they have heard about 'three stones to mark the place'? If they've heard enough that they make hints of that kind, how much else do they know?"

"Oh, fudge! Pay no attention to 'em, I say. What's the odds whether they trail after us or don't?" put in Dave MacLester.

"Huh! Plenty enough odds!" ejaculated Paul Jones, forcibly. "If we'd wanted them tagging along we'd have told 'em when they as good as asked us. And what's more, if we're going to take them into the plan we might as well tell it to everybody and forget all about keeping our business to ourselves. But say! What's the matter with fooling 'em! Let 'em follow after us and when we've led 'em away off the real track, just slip away and go where we first intended?"

There was a general murmur of interest and some laughing over the possibilities Paul's suggestion might develop, but in the end the talk came back to Phil Way's inquiry—were the Chosen Trio bent on making serious mischief and of themselves a contemptible nuisance, or did they think merely that it would be fun to ascertain and expose the object of the contemplated journey?

"They've been spying on us some time or other or they'd never be able to drop so many hints about the Three Stones. Then again, though, that's all they have hinted at, so far as we've heard," said MacLester. "Likely they don't know about anything else. But if we are going to pay any attention at all to them, let's do as Jones says. Let's have some fun out of it."

And so began a series of moves on the checker board of events for both the Auto Boys and the three Chosen Ones which, and particularly with regard to the latter, gave all of them something to think about.

A decoy movement was the first put into execution. Its purpose was to ascertain to what extent Soapy Gaines and his friends were keeping tab on the going and coming of the Thirty, by which name, it will be remembered, the car the four chums jointly owned was known.

With a tarpaulin tied over the rack behind, as if it covered a quantity of baggage, divers boxes—mostly empty—in the tonneau, two extra tires in their racks and the whole outfit presenting the appearance of being ready for extended touring, the Auto Boys headed their car into the street the following morning.

Amid frantic waving of their hands, and by Jones a most ridiculous pretense of wiping away tears of parting—fairly giggling in his handkerchief as he did it—the machine was turned directly toward the Star Lake road. At good speed, yet not too fast—it wouldn't do to eliminate the certainty of being seen—the Thirty rolled into the country just as the great clock in the Court House tower rang nine.

Going with what carelessness he could assume, yet stealthily, too, through the alley at the rear of the Way and other residences on the south side of Grace Avenue, young Mr. Pickton looked in at the window of the green and yellow garage as he had done many times before within the past week. Not at all surprised was he to see the shed empty, but he was astonished and not a little chagrined to notice that the extra tires were no longer in the corner reserved for them, and various other articles of touring paraphernalia customarily stored in plain view—ropes, lantern, shovel, a large tarpaulin, and so on—were missing.

"Ginger! They're gone already!" exclaimed the dumbfounded Mr. Pickton, and took to his heels.

From a corner drug store in an adjacent street he telephoned the news to Soapy Gaines. The latter, no less surprised than Pickton, vented his disgust and displeasure by applying to the Auto Boys a comprehensive variety of names. One would have supposed they had done him some personal injury; at least that they had been bound by every sort of moral obligation to have notified Mr. Gaines and his friends of their intended departure.

Within a half hour Pickton and Freddy Perth were frantically working over Gaines' Roadster while that young gentleman rushed rather foolishly and very excitedly about the carriage house in which the machine was kept. (Mr. Gaines, Sr., had not yet relinquished horses.) Soapy's principal purpose, indeed, seemed to be that of getting himself in the way. In any event, he succeeded so well that young Mr. Perth, hastening to the tank with a heavy can of gasoline, collided with him violently and both rolled upon the concrete floor, the gasoline gurgling over them as if it laughed a deep, deep, solemn laugh.

Unlike most young fellows whose privilege it is to use and care for an automobile, Soapy Gaines little relished the work. Instead of being constantly afraid his chums would have too much to do with the oiling, the lights, the fuel supply and the general keeping of the machine in good trim, as many another young fellow would have been, Gaines was the opposite—afraid only that they wouldn't.

Not to any motive of generosity was this attitude of his to be credited. Soapy just didn't like to work and, moreover, had never learned how to perform even the simplest tasks, whether in connection with the automobile or otherwise. It was a misfortune real and serious. To a great extent, however, since such learning had never been required of him, was he to be pitied rather than blamed.

Notwithstanding their various vexations, for the spilling of the gasoline was but one of several annoying experiences, the Chosen Trio were presently spinning down the street at a rate of speed inviting unpleasant notice should a bluecoat be encountered. They were by no means equipped for an extended journey. All they hoped to do was ascertain the road the Auto Boys had taken. With this information in hand, they would return home and make ready for a long tour. It would be easy to trace the well-laden touring car once its general route beyond the city was known.

Perhaps the Auto Boys made a mistake by not slipping away quietly, this very morning, well ahead of their expected schedule. They could probably have eluded successful pursuit more easily at this time than later. And yet it must be remembered, and their own opinion in the matter was that only by a decoy movement could they assure themselves with regard to the Trio's real intentions. So all in all Phil and his friends thought they planned extremely well.

Alighting from the Thirty in the city's outskirts, Billy Worth had quietly returned by street car to the business district. In the seclusion of the private office of Knight & Wilder's garage he awaited developments. Nothing happening at once, he bethought himself of the telephone, and obtaining ready permission to use it, he called up Ben Ryder.

Reflecting with no small interest that, as the Ryder home was but across the street from the Gaines mansion, and Ben being a pretty wide-awake fellow and likely to be observing, also a good friend, even if he was going to college next fall, Billy was mightily pleased with himself for having thought of him. He rejoiced the more, too, when Ben—Mr. Benjamin Harrison Ryder, left tackle, if you please, sir!—but just good, honest Ben, for short, answered his summons.

"Yes, the three of them went bowling down the street in Gaines' young battleship twenty minutes ago," was the answer to Worth's question. "Don't mention your having inquired? Why, not if you want it that way, certainly. Might not promise so readily if I saw the thing from the same angle that makes it look so important to you. Hope you won't take offense if I say I really don't, though, Billy!"

As this laughing answer terminated the conversation, Worth scoured his brain for other sources of information. The Park Garage, and the Automobile Club were called in turn. From the first nothing was learned, but from the club came the news that Gaines and Pickton had been in the rooms to look at some road maps, leaving later to overtake Phil Way's crowd. The latter had driven out on the Star Lake road some time before. Dr. Malcom told Gaines and Pickton of having met them as he returned from a country call.

John Lawdon, the snappy young secretary of the club, always eager to be accommodating, told Billy all this without so much as asking to whom he was speaking. He had helped Pick and Soapy look over the maps, he said. Yes, Fred Perth was with them. He had seen all three drive away.

So delighted to have obtained a positive key to the Trio's movements that he could hardly say "Thank you," without betraying excitement in his voice, Billy hung up the receiver. Then he waited, but not long was he kept in suspense.

The telephone rang. Mr. Wilder's stenographer responded. "It is for you, Mr. Worth,"—with a peculiar little accent on the Mr.

It was Phil Way, calling in from Star Lake as had been agreed he should do. Promptly and with many a laugh over the success of their ruse, Billy reported all he had learned.

"Good enough!" exclaimed Phil. "We will run over a lot of cross roads and finally back to town before noon, giving them a route to trace that will keep 'em out all day."

"Hurry along! They'll be there soon!" Worth replied, eagerly. "Get a good start ahead and we'll watch for them as they come back! Let them see just a smile in the corner of an eye, you know! Better than to give 'em the laugh right out."

Almost to the letter was the plan of the Auto Boys consummated. The hitch in their program followed the early discovery by Gaines and his company that they themselves had made a serious mistake or else had been made the victims of a trick. That one or the other proposition was true dawned slowly upon them as they painfully traced the car they sought by the tracks of its wheels, or, where these were lost in the dust, by many inquiries at farmhouses and of fellow travelers upon the road.

"If it was just a low-down scheme to send us wild-goose chasing, they'll be hanging around somewhere to gloat, you bet!" Fred Perth suggested, as it became painfully apparent that the Auto Boys' machine had simply made an extended series of turns, then returned to town.

"Anyhow, it's all the more reason we've got to upset their old secret tour," said Gaines, with determination.

Pick was driving. "I'll run her around the suburbs to the South road, then up to your house through the back streets, Soapy," he proposed. "They'll be watching for us to come in through town, if this was just one of their measly tricks."

"Her" being the automobile and being also a well-behaved car, "she" made no protest of any sort to the longer way home, as Pickton suggested. Soapy and Perth likewise agreeing, a half circle was made around the town. It was nearly two o'clock when the Roadster, with the water fairly boiling out of the radiator, rumbled into the Gaines carriage house.

Perhaps it was because they were not only disgusted with their fruitless journey, but very hungry as well, that the Chosen Ones unanimously agreed that, in substance, Messrs. Way, Jones, MacLester and Worth were a precious lot of rogues who thought themselves extremely smart. And it is very much to be feared, indeed, that some such feeling with regard to their mental capacity was entertained by the four friends when a couple of hours later the two parties of young gentlemen came face to face on Main Street.

But if there was in the glances of the Auto Boys an exultation which, strictly speaking, was not at all to their credit, it must be remembered that they were only human. Only human, and not so trained in the suppression of the appearance, only, of exulting over a fellow creature, as older members of the human race sometimes become.

Phil and Billy were on the way to deliver the large route of evening papers they managed every week day, and Dave and Paul to buy some supplies for the proposed trip when the opposing parties met.

"Oh, hello!" cried Paul Jones with an expansive grin.

"G'wan, you—" It was Soapy who answered, but the final word, if he completed his sentence, was lost in the noise of the street. What that word was is immaterial, perhaps. What it wasn't was made very plain by his manner and the term was certainly not "young gentleman," "cherished friend," or anything of that order.

"Oh, well, they had no business trying to inject themselves into our affairs," said Billy Worth, sorry to see the bitter feeling of the three lads.

And there was really broad justification for Worth's remarks. For a large part of a year—ever since the preceding fall, and it was now June—the Auto Boys had had in contemplation the journey they were about to begin.

For reasons they deemed sufficient, their destination and their object they had revealed only in their families. All comment, all conjecture, all inquisitive or teasing words from their friends had been successfully resisted.

The curiosity of their usual associates was only heightened by this fact, and in time the secret plans of the lads were vested by their whole acquaintanceship with an importance far out of proper proportion to their probable consequence. Then came Soapy Gaines and his followers, Pickton and Perth, with frequent hints of a truly mysterious nature—"Three stones piled one upon another to mark the place."

What place, and where? And why? And who marked it, and when?

Not only those of an age with the Auto Boys themselves but their elders as well wondered more and more as ever and again came some reference to the secret journey.