The Moving Picture Girls at Oak Farm: or, Queer Happenings While Taking Rural PlaysHope, Laura Lee
General
The Moving Picture Girls at Oak Farm: or, Queer Happenings While Taking Rural Plays
Hope, Laura Lee
Farm life -- Juvenile fiction; Girls -- Juvenile fiction; Motion pictures -- Production and direction -- Juvenile fiction
And then, so suddenly that it seemed like a trick of fate, something
occurred which completely turned the tables in favor of Sandy. The
fleeing man in the auto found himself behind a load of hay, that
occupied a considerable part of the road. Sandy was close enough to
hear the frantic tooting of the horn, but either the driver of the
hay wagon did not hear, or he had a constitutional objection to
autoists, for he did not pull out.
Thus the strange man was obliged to turn to one side and, unluckily
for him, but luckily for Sandy, there was a roadside ditch at that
point. Into this the wheels of the auto went and as it was sticky and
soft the car came to such a sudden stop that the man was pitched out
over the glass wind-shield, landing in the ditch.
"Now I've got you!" cried Sandy, and clapping his heels to the sides
of his panting horse the young farmer rode up alongside the prostrate
man.
"I've got you! Surrender!" commanded the young farmer, leaping down,
and grabbing the man, who was now sitting up a dazed look on his
face. "I've got you, and I arrest you in th' name of th' law!"
"Yes, I see you've got me," replied the man, slowly. "But on what
charge do you arrest me?"
Sandy was puzzled for a moment, and scratched his head. He had not
thought of this.
"You have no right to arrest me," the man went on. "I have done
nothing to you."
"I don't know whether you have or not," Sandy said. "I think you've
been tryin' to, but couldn't do it. I'm suspicious of you. That's
it--I arrest you on suspicion!"
"That's no charge," cried the man, struggling to his feet and trying
to break away. But Sandy held him firmly. "Besides, you are not an
officer, and have no warrant."
"I don't need any!" cried Sandy, who had that point clear enough in
his mind. "Any citizen of the United States can make an arrest if he
wants to, and I'm a citizen. So I arrest you, whatever your name is,
on suspicion."
"Suspicion of what?"
Again Sandy was puzzled.
"I don't just know," he confessed. "I'll leave that to Squire
Blasdell. He's th' law-court around here--and he's a hard one, too.
I'll take you afore him. So come along. You've been trespassin' on
our place, anyhow, and I can make that a charge if I can't any other.
Come along."
Sandy was young, strong and vigorous, and the man, though almost his
equal, was tired out from his long run before he had taken to the
auto. Besides he was badly jolted up by the sudden and unceremonious
manner in which he left the car.
"All right, I s'pose I've got to come," the man admitted in a sullen
manner.
"You'd better," observed Sandy, grimly. "And there's another charge,
too. You took th' doctor's automobile."
To this the man answered nothing. He probably knew that this was a
serious enough charge on which to hold him.
"We'll jest go back in th' car, too," went on Sandy, "since you know
how to run 'em. But, mind you! No monkey tricks! Don't you try to run
away with me."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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