The Outdoor Chums After Big Game Part 2

"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 pa.s.sage. 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 b.u.mps 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.