Then he was laid, none too gently, on a pile of some rags in a corner of a dark room. The door was closed and Bill was left alone with his anxious and gloomy thoughts. “Potato salad!” he gasped, half aloud, for the rags had been removed from around his head, “I hope I get away from here in time to play in the Freshman game to-morrow! It will be fierce if I don’t.” Bill listened. He could hear the auto puffing away. He was left alone in the deserted shack—at least he thought he was alone, for he heard no noise. * * * * * Bright and early the next morning Pete and Cap were up, ready to go to the rescue of their brother. They arranged to cut their lectures that day, as did also Whistle-Breeches, and, though many more students wanted to take part in the search, it was thought best not to make too much of the affair. “For, whoever has done it will hear about us getting excited about it and they’ll have more of a laugh on us than ever,” declared Cap. “It’s a disgrace that we ever let Bill be captured.” “We couldn’t help it,” was Pete’s opinion. “But we’ll get him back.” Their first move in the morning was to go to the place where the kidnapping had occurred. There they saw the marks of some auto wheels, but, as several cars had passed by in the meanwhile it was impossible to do any tracing. “We’ve got to make inquiries,” decided Cap. “We’ll ask along the road, of farmers and the people we meet.” They did not have much success for they could not describe the auto, nor those in it, and many cars had gone over the road. “It’s my notion that you’re lookin’ fer a needle in the haystack,” was the opinion of one farmer whom they asked, and when the boys thought of it, they nearly agreed with him. “But what will we do at the game if he doesn’t show up?” demanded Captain Armitage. “It will be fierce to go up against Tuckerton without Bill in the box.” “What _can_ we do?” asked Pete hopelessly when a good part of the morning had gone, and there was no trace of the missing pitcher. “Go right to Tuckerton, and accuse them!” suggested the irate captain. “Tell them we know they spirited Bill off, and demand that they produce him, or we’ll not play.” “They’d laugh at us,” said Cap. “Call us kindergartners, and all that sort of thing. No, we can’t crawl that way. But I believe the Tuckerton fellows _did_ have a hand in the game, and if we can only find out which of them hired an auto I think we’d have a clew.” “Maybe one of them owns a car,” suggested Whistle-Breeches. It was a new thought for the searchers, and it was received joyously. “By Jinks! That’s the stuff!” cried Cap. “Pete, you get on that trail, and I’ll inquire at the only garage in town if any of the fellows from Tuckerton hired a gasoline gig there. I’ll meet you at the cross roads.” This was a place about half-way between the two schools which were only a few miles apart.