as it became painfully apparent that the Auto Boys' machine had simply made an extended series of turns, then returned to town.

"Anyhow, it's all the more reason we've got to upset their old secret tour," said Gaines, with determination.

Pick was driving. "I'll run her around the suburbs to the South road, then up to your house through the back streets, Soapy," he proposed. "They'll be watching for us to come in through town, if this was just one of their measly tricks."

"Her" being the automobile and being also a well-behaved car, "she" made no protest of any sort to the longer way home, as Pickton suggested. Soapy and Perth likewise agreeing, a half circle was made around the town. It was nearly two o'clock when the Roadster, with the water fairly boiling out of the radiator, rumbled into the Gaines carriage house.

Perhaps it was because they were not only disgusted with their fruitless journey, but very hungry as well, that the Chosen Ones unanimously agreed that, in substance, Messrs. Way, Jones, MacLester and Worth were a precious lot of rogues who thought themselves extremely smart. And it is very much to be feared, indeed, that some such feeling with regard to their mental capacity was entertained by the four friends when a couple of hours later the two parties of young gentlemen came face to face on Main Street.

But if there was in the glances of the Auto Boys an exultation which, strictly speaking, was not at all to their credit, it must be remembered that they were only human. Only human, and not so trained in the suppression of the appearance, only, of exulting over a fellow creature, as older members of the human race sometimes become.

Phil and Billy were on the way to deliver the large route of evening papers they managed every week day, and Dave and Paul to buy some supplies for the proposed trip when the opposing parties met.

"Oh, hello!" cried Paul Jones with an expansive grin.

"G'wan, you—" It was Soapy who answered, but the final word, if he completed his sentence, was lost in the noise of the street. What that word was is immaterial, perhaps. What it wasn't was made very plain by his manner and the term was certainly not "young gentleman," "cherished friend," or anything of that order.

"Oh, well, they had no business trying to inject themselves into our affairs," said Billy Worth, sorry to see the bitter feeling of the three lads.

And there was really broad justification for Worth's remarks. For a large part of a year—ever since the preceding fall, and it was now June—the Auto Boys had had in contemplation the journey they were about to begin.

For reasons they deemed sufficient, their destination and their object they had revealed only in their families. All comment, all conjecture, all inquisitive or teasing words from their friends had been successfully resisted.

The curiosity of their usual associates was only heightened by this fact, and in time the secret plans of the lads were vested by their whole acquaintanceship with an importance far out of proper proportion to their probable consequence. Then came Soapy Gaines and his followers, Pickton and Perth, with frequent hints of a truly mysterious nature—"Three stones piled one upon another to mark the place."

What place, and where? And why? And who marked it, and when?

Not only those of an age with the Auto Boys themselves but their elders as well wondered more and more as ever and again came some reference to the secret journey.

CHAPTER III

A PLAN THAT DID NOT FAIL

A number of plans for eluding Soapy Gaines and the watchful eyes of his two bosom friends did the Auto Boys formulate. None of them seemed quite satisfactory. A scheme to slip away at night was discarded as being too much like simply running away. Another, which involved the shipping of all supplies to a nearby town and really making the start from there, was considered to necessitate too great a loss of time if the goods were sent by freight and to cost more than the lads felt justified in paying if forwarded by express.

Thus, as for varying reasons every suggestion offered was at last voted undesirable, there appeared no other course than to disregard the Trio entirely. It was in the midst of this extremity that on the Saturday following the wild-goose chase on which the Roadster had been led, Pickton again asked Dave MacLester point blank when "Sinbad's next voyage" was to begin.

"Since you are so good as to inquire, and as it must make a whole lot of difference to you," answered Davy, firing up under Pick's bantering tone, "we're going to start Monday afternoon. If there's anything else you'd like to know, just mention it."

"Say! Are you going to leave Monday?" asked Pickton, doubtingly.

"If it's perfectly convenient to you, we really would like to get away at that time," MacLester answered witheringly. Then fearing he had said too much, he added: "Of course we might come back the same day. Such things have happened."

Pick received this reference to the fruitless chase of a few days previous with a contemptuous "A-h-w!" Yet he went away pretty well satisfied that Monday was the chosen day.

A half hour later, Dave related at the green and yellow shed under the elms all that had been said.

"Don't see what you meant by speaking out that way!" growled Billy Worth. "They'll just be watching all the closer!"

"Yes, sir! They'll be watching all the more," cried Phil Way, with sudden enthusiasm, "and I have a scheme that I think will work." Then in the lowest undertones he told his plan.

In undertones filled with joyous anticipation, also, the suggestion advanced was elaborated upon. And when the four chums separated, each knew just what he must do, and there is no doubt whatever that at this juncture they would not have had Gaines, Pickton and Freddy Perth abandon their plan of pursuit if but a word would have persuaded them to do so. No! The prospect of vanquishing them and of leaving them chagrined and humiliated was quite too delightful to think of the circumstances being other than just as they were.

Monday came. Phil Way and Paul Jones were out in the car when the work of the morning had been finished. Billy Worth was occupied with the lawn mower at his own home and Dave was somewhat similarly engaged in the MacLester family garden. All of these facts the Chosen Trio had gathered in good season. Quite satisfied with the situation, they took the Roadster out for a spin, intent upon the whereabouts of Phil and Paul in the Thirty.

Keeping a sharp eye on all the automobiles in view, the three youths presently turned toward the Ravine road, for it was one the Auto Boys used a great deal. They often went to Tyler Gleason's farm, a short drive beyond the city. Phil and Paul had gone there this very morning, in fact.

And what was this? Soapy Gaines burst suddenly into a laugh not unlike a conqueror's war-whoop and Pickton and Perth joined in his mirth in scarcely less demonstrative fashion.

The Thirty of the Auto Boys was being "towed in."

Yes, it was true. As the Roadster came close, the Chosen Ones found their first glimpse of the predicament of the enemy fully verified. There was George Knight in his big six-cylinder, with Phil Way, glum and silent, in the seat beside him, while tied by ropes behind they hauled the four-cylinder car of the Auto Boys. Paul Jones, steering the car in tow, seemed to be trying to look indifferent—as if he didn't care.

"Give ye a lift?" cried Tom Pickton, slowing up. He was not alone in his anxiety to know how seriously the Thirty was out of commission.

"No, thank you!" Phil Way answered distantly, as Mr. Knight drove ahead without pause or comment.

It is interesting to note how quickly the Gaines party discovered that they were themselves ready to turn toward the city.

This they did, and until town was reached they loafed along