little horn attached to his
machine that warned the others a stop was imperative.

CHAPTER II

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