“Now, the next question to settle,” spoke Tom, “is to learn where I am.  How far did those scoundrels carry me, and what has become of my motor-cycle?”

He walked toward the point of the shed where he could observe the stars gleaming, and there he lighted some more matches, hoping he might see his machine.  By the gleam of the little flame he noted that he was in a farmyard, and he was just puzzling his brain over the question as to what city or town he might be near when he heard a voice shouting: 

“Here, what you lightin’ them matches for?  You want to set the place afire?  Who be you, anyhow—­a tramp?”

It was unmistakably the voice of a farmer, and Tom could hear footsteps approaching on the run.

“Who be you, anyhow?” the voice repeated.  “I’ll have the constable after you in a jiffy if you’re a tramp.”

“I’m not a tramp,” called Tom promptly.  “I’ve met with an accident.  Where am I?”

“Humph!  Mighty funny if you don’t know where you are,” commented the farmer.  “Jed, bring a lantern until I take a look at who this is.”

“All right, pop,” answered another voice, and a moment later Tom saw a tall man standing in front of him.

“I’ll give you a look at me without waiting for the lantern,” said Tom quickly, and he struck a match, holding it so that the gleam fell upon his face.

“Salt mackerel!  It’s a young feller!” exclaimed the farmer.  “Who be you, anyhow, and what you doin’ here?”

“That’s just what I would like to know,” said Tom, passing his hand over his head, which was still paining him.  “Am I near Albany?  That’s where I started for this morning.”

“Albany?  You’re a good way from Albany,” replied the farmer.  “You’re in the village of Dunkirk.”

“How far is that from Centreford?”

“About seventy miles.”

“As far as that?” cried Tom.  “They must have carried me a good way in their automobile.”

“Was you in that automobile?” demanded the farmer.

“Which one?” asked Tom quickly.

“The one that stopped down the road just before supper.  I see it, but I didn’t pay no attention to it.  If I’d ‘a’ knowed you fell out, though, I’d ‘a’ come to help you.”

“I didn’t fall out, Mr.—­er—­” Tom paused.

“Blackford is my name; Amos Blackford.”

“Well, Mr. Blackford, I didn’t fall out.  I was drugged and brought here.”

“Drugged!  Salt mackerel!  But there’s been a crime committed, then.  Jed, hurry up with that lantern an’ git your deputy sheriff’s badge on.  There’s been druggin’ an’ all sorts of crimes committed.  I’ve caught one of the victims.  Hurry up!  My son’s a deputy sheriff,” he added, by way of an explanation.

“Then I hope he can help me catch the scoundrels who robbed me,” said Tom.

“Robbed you, did they?  Hurry up, Jed.  There’s been a robbery!  We’ll rouse the neighborhood an’ search for the villains.  Hurry up, Jed!”