“Oh, that was the awfulest trick that ever was played!” burst out Laura. “They must have planned it some days ahead, or they never could have done it.”
“Tell me,” broke in Roger suddenly, “wasn’t the driver of that car Nick Jasniff?”
“I think he was,” answered Dave’s sister. “We accused him of being Jasniff, but he denied it. Nevertheless, both of us feel rather certain that it is the same fellow who robbed Mr. Wadsworth’s factory.”
“We suspected Jasniff almost from the start,” said Dave. “But go 杭州发廊一条街在哪里 ahead—tell us how they 281got you to leave the train and go to where they had the automobile.杭州最大洗浴休闲会所”
“You see, it was this way,” explained Laura. “At the very first station where the train stopped, a messenger came through the car calling out my name. He had a telegram for me, which read something like this: ‘We are on an auto tour to Boston. If you want to ride with us, leave train at Crandall and meet us at the Bliss House. Telegraph answer from Glenwood.’ And the telegram was signed, ‘Mrs. Frank Browning.’”
“Mrs. Frank Browning?” repeated Dave. “Do you mean the girl you used to know so well—Edith Parshall?”
“Yes, Dave. You know she is married, and her husband has a fine big touring-car. They left Crumville for a trip a few days before we went away. They were at our house talking about the tour the night before they started.”
“I see,” answered Dave, nodding understandingly. “Go on.”
“Jessie and I talked it over, and 杭州按摩保健全套会所as we were very much crowded in the day coach—you know we couldn’t get parlor-car chairs—we thought it would be a fine thing to accept Mrs. Browning’s invitation. So at Glenwood we sent a telegram, stating we would meet them at the Bliss House in Crandall. The train met with some
kind of an accident, and we were stalled just outside Crandall; 282but we got out with a number of others and walked to the town.”
“Of course Mrs. Browning had nothing to do with the telegram,” put in Jessie.
“Just as we got to the hotel in Crandall, a boy came up with a note and asked if either of us knew Laura Porter. I took the note, and from the way it was written supposed that Mrs. Browning had sent it. It stated that they had had a blow-out, and her 杭州酒店足浴 husband was fixing the car some distance down the road, and wouldn’t we walk down there and meet 杭州龙凤兼职论坛them?”
“So, instead of going into the hotel, we went down the road as the boy told us,” said Jessie. “He pointed out the car, and then ran away to join some girls who were in a yard not very far off. We went up to the car, and the next thing we knew we were caught up and thrown inside, and the car went down the road at breakneck speed.”
“Who was in the car?” questioned Dave.
“Mother Domoza and a tall gypsy, who we found out was Tony Bopeppo, the man you were just talking to. The fellow who drove the car was the chap we afterward suspected of being Jasniff. He wore a false mustache and a wig, and I am sure he had his face stained.”
“Didn’t you struggle or cry out?” questioned Roger.
“To be sure we did! But the old gypsy hag 28杭州品茶微信 3had something on a handkerchief which she placed to our faces, and then we went off into something like a swoon. When we recovered, we found we were bound hands and feet with pieces of clothes-line. The automobile was going along at a lively rate, and we bumped over some terrible rocks. Then we began to climb a long hill, and after a little while the automobile came to a stop among some trees. There we were met by several other gypsies, and the whole crowd made us walk to this house and marched us up to these rooms—and here we are!”
“And now they have captured you, too!” cried Jessie. “Oh, this is worse than ever!”
“Don’t you worry too much,” whispered Dave, lowering his voice so that anybody outside the door might not hear. “When we were at a town a few miles away from here, we sent word to Crumville, and Uncle Dunston is 杭州油压按摩会所体验 coming out to this neighborhood.”