"
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.
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