THE MOTORCYCLE THIEVES
"What's gone wrong, Frank?" demanded Bluff, dropping off his seat.
"In luck again, for I'd have banged up against that big root if Frank
hadn't given the signal just then," chuckled Will, holding up his
machine.
"A puncture, Frank?" demanded Jerry, who had been in the rear.
"Not at all. I thought I heard some one shouting. Perhaps I was
mistaken, for with a lot of motors popping away it's hard to be sure.
Still, we can stop for a minute and listen," remarked Frank seriously.
"Shouting--for help?" repeated Will, looking around nervously.
"That's queer," cried Bluff, "that we seldom go out anywhere but what
somebody calls on us for assistance. Think of it! There was the town
bully, Andy Lasher, who was caught under that falling tree in the storm,
and rescued by Jerry."
"That's a fact; and then there was Jed, the bound boy, you remember,
fellows," went on Will eagerly.
"Not to mention the saving of the aeronaut from the burning hotel by
Frank, here; and last, but not least, our giving that little Joe the
glad hand down South," observed Jerry, joining in with enthusiasm.
"Yes, but there are a few rescues you seem to forget, Jerry. How about
that time when the wild dogs had you chasing around the tree?" asked
Bluff, grinning.
"Oh, that isn't in the same class. You forget that I got out of that
scrape by my own exertions," replied the other.
"But there was another time when we hauled you out of a hollow tree in
which you found yourself caged. You didn't crawl out of there alone and
unaided, if I remember right," persisted Will.
"Some things are better buried in oblivion. You and your camera want to
remind a fellow constantly of events that ought to be forgotten. But
Frank, that must have been an owl you heard. I haven't caught any call
for help yet."
"Perhaps we'd better go on, then. Look out how you mount here, for it's
a hard proposition, Jerry, with these roots and stones."
Frank had just started to move forward with his own motorcycle, when
all of them heard a sound issuing from the woods alongside the "tote"
road.
"Help! help!"
They looked at each other.
"Somebody's in trouble there. Who can it be?" said Frank as he leaned
his machine up against a tree, as though eager to hasten to the
assistance of the one who had cried out.
"No hunters around at this time of year," remarked Will as he followed
suit.
"And the loggers have been gone some months," went on Bluff.
"Tell me about that, now! It wasn't a child's voice, or I might think a
kid had got lost up here. Perhaps some man has cut himself badly with
his ax," suggested Jerry.
"Or dropped down into some old abandoned mine shaft," spoke up Frank,
with a wink toward Will; for one of the chums had gone through with just
such an experience during one of their outings, and had to be rescued.
"Shall we all go?" demanded Bluff, given to caution.
"Why not? Nothing can happen to our machines here. For one, I decline to
stay out of the rescuing party. Besides, perhaps I may get a chance to
snap off a lovely picture of the Good Samaritans at work."
Will had hastily unfastened his camera, and held it in his hands as he
spoke.
"All right, then. Come on, boys!"
With these words, Frank led the way into the woods.
"Sure the sound came from this direction?" asked Bluff.
"That was my impression. What do you say, Jerry?" and Frank turned to
the chum on whose knowledge of woodcraft he felt he could rely.
"Straight in there. You're heading all right, Frank," he replied.
"How far did it seem to be?" went on the leader.
"That is hard to say. The man may have been weakened from loss of blood.
If he was shouting, then it may have been several hundred yards, perhaps
a quarter of a mile off; but I think we'll come across him closer than
that."
"I agree with you, Jerry," said Frank, stopping short.
"What did you hear?" demanded the other, for Frank had bent his head,
and seemed to be listening over his shoulder.
"I don't know. Perhaps it was a bush springing back into place after our
passage. But suppose we shout occasionally? It may encourage the poor
fellow, and besides, guide us to where he lies," returned Frank, once
more pushing on.
Accordingly they lifted up their voices and gave a series of calls.
"Why doesn't he answer us?" asked Will, astonished when only the echoes
came back from the surrounding forest.
Frank stopped in his tracks.
"Can he have fainted from loss of blood?" said Bluff, still having in
mind a picture of a woodsman who had severed an artery by a misblow of
his ax.
"There's Frank listening again, and he seems to be paying more attention
to our rear than ahead," remarked Will, puzzled.
"I bet you he thinks somebody is playing us for a lot of fools; that
there isn't any one hurt, or in need of help at all. What's that?"
The distinct and well-known "popping" of a motor was heard.
"It's a trick, fellows! Somebody is meddling with our machines! Back to
the road!" shouted Jerry, turning and plunging through the under-brush
recklessly.
A wild scramble followed. The four chums were so excited, and filled
with a determination to stop the unknown miscreants from making way
with their machines, that they gave little heed to their steps. The
consequence was that more than once a collision with a tree ensued, and
various bumps afterward gave mute evidence as to the reckless manner of
their chase.
"There's two of 'em!" shrieked Will from the rear, as he caught the
sound of a second series of erratic poppings.
Evidently those who were meddling with the motorcycles did not have a
thorough knowledge of how to work the same, for the sounds would
suddenly cease and then start up again.
"Oh! don't I wish they'd just take headers over some nice fat root!"
gasped the perspiring Will, still hugging his precious camera to his
heart as he followed in Frank's wake.
The latter had made for the road in as direct a line as possible.
Progress was bound to be slow through the dense undergrowth, and the
sooner they struck the open the quicker they could hope to gain on the
thieves.
In this fashion they came upon the road at last. Of course, their eyes
immediately turned down its sinuous way to the quarter whence the
excitable popping sounds still continued to come.
The sight that met their eyes amazed them. All of the chums had
naturally expected that they would discover some mischievous school
companions, who, seeing them coming, had hatched up this little game
with the intention of playing a practical joke.
Nothing of the kind. On the contrary, they saw two of the motorcycles
bobbing along in the most erratic manner possible, moving from one side
of the rough road to the other, and mounted on the same were a couple of
roughly dressed men, either tramps, or journeymen on the road looking
for a job.
"Tell me about that, will you!" gasped Jerry.
"Why, the blooming idiots mean to steal our machines!" cried Bluff.
"Oh! what luck that I thought to take my camera with me!" came from
Will.
Frank only made one remark, but it was characteristic of the boy:
"After them, fellows!"
Then began a mad chase. Had the road been half-way decent, the boys
would have had no chance of overtaking the thieves; but those exposed
roots, while not bothersome to the lumbermen, proved extremely so to the
men who were trying to make off with the motorcycles.
They dared not put on great speed. More than this, much of their time
was taken up with dodging the stones and other things that threatened to
bring sudden disaster upon them.
Hence it was that the boys, having considerable sprinting ability,
began to rapidly overhaul the fleeing rascals. The two men dared not
cast a single glance behind, and consequently the only means they had of
knowing how close their pursuers might be would lie in any shouts given
by Frank and his chums.
As he ran, the leading boy cast an occasional look alongside the path.
He was in search of a good stout cudgel. Knowing that the chances were
the affair would presently come to a face-to-face issue between the two
parties, he wished to be prepared as well as possible.
"Bully stunt!" exclaimed Jerry as he followed suit.
They were now drawing close upon the fugitives, who were having a
nerve-racking time dodging those numerous roots.
Knowing that the angry owners of the wheels must be close upon them, the
men endeavored to increase their speed, with disastrous results.
"Wow!" shouted Jerry, as he saw one of the riders suddenly shoot out of
his saddle and take a header, to be followed by his companion a second
later.