id="id00364">Dick's chums, who had now joined him at the roadside, looked puzzled.
Then light dawned in Tom's eyes.

"Jupiter!" cried Reade. "If it weren't that they're not in this part of the country, I'd say that the pair were Dodge and Bayliss!"

"How do you know they're not in this part of the country?" asked
Prescott dryly. Then, of the farmer, he further inquired:

"What kind of a car were they driving, sir?"

"A red Smattach, last year's model," answered the man.

"That's just what the Dodge automobile runabout is, and Smattach cars are not common in this section," muttered Prescott. Then he went over to take a keener look at the written notice on the sheet of white paper.

"This looks like disguised handwriting; it's backhanded," Dick mused aloud. "But I notice one thing peculiar. Who makes a funny little quirl at the beginning of a letter 'm,' such as you see in this writing?"

"Bert Dodge!" flashed Dave Darrin, an indignant light flashing in his eyes. "So we're six simpletons, held up by his shady tricks, are we? If Bert Dodge is anywhere ahead of us on the road, then I hope we have the good luck to meet him under conditions where he can't jam on the speed and get away from us!"

"Joke on you all, is it?" asked the farmer, grinning quizzically.

"It looks like it," admitted Dick sheepishly. "You're sure that none of the folks west of here heard anything of a mad dog, are you?"

"Pretty sure," nodded the farmer.

"Then this notice isn't really needed up here," replied Dick, carefully pulling the tacks, after which he folded the paper and tucked it in one of his pockets. "We're mightily obliged to you, sir."

"Oh, you're welcome," grinned the farmer, as he gathered up the reins over his horse. "I've got to be getting along. I'm late in Gridley now."

"If that man is too talkative in Gridley, folks will hear how we got sold," yawned Tom, gazing after the farm wagon. "Then—-my! Won't folks be laughing at us?"

"It's a mean trick," cried Dave indignantly. "I wish I had that
Dodge fellow here, right now! I believe that I'm master of enough
English to convey to him an idea of just what I think of him!"

"I wouldn't waste any of my carefully acquired English on him," growled Tom Reade.

"What would you do—-skin your other knuckles?" inquired Danny
Grin innocently.

"We're wasting too much time punishing a fellow who isn't here,"
Dick broke in. "Let's get forward. After another mile Dalzell
and I will take the cart and get it over some of the ground.
Now, forward, march!"

It was noticed that Dave Darrin walked with clenched-fists. Tom took long strides that carried him in advance of the others. Dick Prescott was mostly silent, yet in his eyes there was a steady light, and a grim look about his mouth, that bespoke the possibility of some inconvenience to Bert Dodge and his friend, should that pair fall into the hands of Dick & Co. within the next hour.

At noon Dick & Co. halted. Under the shade of a group of trees, close to a roadside spring, they built two small fires. Over one they made coffee; over the other, they fried bacon and eggs. This, with bread, constituted the meal. A brief rest, then on they went once more.

It was toward five o'clock when Dick and Tom, who knew the road from having tramped over it before, announced that they were less than half a mile from the point where they would turn in to go to the second lake.

At this time Greg and Dan were managing the push cart. Tom and Dick strode on ahead, watching for the first sign of the path that should lead down to their intended camp site.

Suddenly, however, Prescott seized Reade by the arm, halting him.

"What's the matter?" asked Tom.

"Sh!—-" Dick piloted his friend in behind a line of bushes, then went cautiously ahead.

"Look over there!" whispered Dick.

Tom Reade gave a start when he found himself gazing at a red runabout that stood just off the road and apparently deserted.

"Humph! That's a Smattach, too," declared Tom. "It must be the
Dodge car. Bert and Bayliss must be somewhere about."

Dick stood surveying the car with speculative eyes.

"I know what you're thinking about," Tom whispered. "Wait; I'll go back and halt the fellows and bring Dave forward with me."

In a few moments this had been done. Darry gazed at the red Smattach with gleaming eyes.

"This is surely our chance!" he muttered. "Now, what can we do?"

All three were silent for a few moments. Then Tom Reade smote his thigh with one hand.

"I have it," he muttered excitedly.

"Then don't be stingy with your secret," urged Dave. "Out with at least a part of it."

For some moments Dick, Dave and Tom remained engaged in a rapid interchange of whispers, all the time glancing about them.