Tell your folks at home, and meet me at the Forks in not
more than half an hour."
Frank hustled the others out of the boathouse, locked the door, and then
the four chums hastened to their various homes.
Ere the half hour was up they came together at the forks of the road,
just out of Centerville. Frank was first on hand, as usual, but even
laggard Will showed up on time, camera and all.
In single file, and with a little space separating them, they started
off, the motors soon popping merrily as the boys entered into the spirit
of the occasion.
The air was fresh as they sped along the dusty road. The leader was ever
ready to signal a slow-down in case they met a farmer with a load of
hay, going to market, or any other vehicle. This was rendered necessary
because the cloud of dust might blind the eyes of those who came after,
and a collision be the result.
In this fashion they arrived at the lumber camp, which was deserted at
this time of year. From there on the pace had to be slowed down, for the
road was only used by logging teams, and hardly suitable for
motorcycles.
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