elet, and almost cut Dorothy's wrist
on the knife with which he was trying to cut loose the circlet.

"Oh, don't," pleaded Dorothy. "Let go my hand and I'll give it you!"

How she wanted to yell! But if he should tie her mouth!

Voices sounded!

"Oh, it must be the boys," thought Dorothy. "If only they come this
way!"

Her assailant heard the same voices, and desperately he pulled at the
locked bracelet. As he made one final attempt to wrench it from
Dorothy's wrist, his knife slipped, and cut clear across his own hand,
the blood spurting from a long wound. With a cry he dropped his hold
on Dorothy, and attempted to staunch the flow of blood.

Freed, Dorothy ran--ran as she felt she had never known she could run!
She did not stop to call, although she judged that the boys might be
near by; but ran on, across the marshes without any heed to the water,
that even splattered up in her face, as she jumped from edge to edge
of the rivulets, making her way out to the open roadway.

How her heart pounded! It did not seem to beat, but rather to strike
at her breast and almost to strangle her.

It was getting quite dusk, but once on the road and she would feel
safe.

"Hey there!" came a call in a familiar voice.

The boys were just coming out of the woods at the far end of the oaks.

"What's your hurry!" demanded Nat.

Dorothy felt like sinking down. The relief was almost as overwhelming
as had been her fear.

"Oh, do hurry!" she called rather feebly. "I am almost dead!"

CHAPTER V

THE SEARCH

When Dorothy told her folks of what had happened, the boys could
scarcely believe the strange story. That any one should actually make
such a wild-west attempt at robbery, within reach of the Cedars,
certainly did seem incredible. However, there was no disproving the
marks on the girl's arms, where they had been rudely tied, nor could
any one deny that in the attempt to remove her bracelet her delicate
wrist had been badly bruised. At first it was thought best to at once
notify the police, but, upon further consideration, Major Dale advised
keeping the matter quiet, hoping that some one in the neighborhood
would fall upon a clue to the daring young highwayman.

"I do hope the mystery will be cleared up before I leave for camp,"
remarked Dorothy, as the family sat in the beautiful library at the
Cedars, discussing the strange affair. "I should never be satisfied
with a written account of what may happen, when y