old man to move him.”

This was voted the best plan. They made the unconscious miner as comfortable as possible on the bed of rags, placed the pail of water where he could reach it, and prepared to run back to town. Ned volunteered to stay with the miner until they returned, but Jerry advised against it, as the hut was on a lonely road.

It did not take long to reach Cresville. Dr. Morrison was routed out of bed by the boys, and agreed to return with them in the auto, when the case had been explained to him.

“Just wait until I get dressed,” he said, “and pack up some instruments and I’ll be with you.”

While waiting, Jerry examined the auto to see that there was plenty of water and gasolene in the tanks. He found everything all right.

While Dr. Morrison was making ready to relieve the sufferings of the miner in the hut, Jack Pender, on his motor-cycle, was still speeding on, to get as far away as possible from those in pursuit of him. When he turned from the road and cut across lots he thought very likely that the auto would not follow. But he was taking no chances, and, when he emerged into the highway again, about a mile farther on, he still ran his machine at full speed.

“That was a close call!” he exclaimed. “Who would ever have thought that those boys, the same ones who made all the trouble for Noddy, would be after me! I escaped just in time. I hope I didn’t kill the old man, though it was a hard blow I struck him!”

Pender slowed down his machine and listened. No sound of pursuit came to him on the quiet night air. He stopped alongside of the road, under a big oak tree.

“Guess I’ll light up and see how I made out,” he said to himself. He lighted his acetylene lamp and, standing in the glare of it, drew from his pocket the belt he had stolen from the old miner.

“Feels heavy,” he muttered. “Ought to be plenty of gold in it. Well, I need the money if I am to join Noddy. I must read his letter again.”

He pulled out a sheet of paper and began glancing over it.

“Dated New York,” he said. “He says he’s having lots of fun and no end of larks with Bill Berry. I don’t care much for Bill, myself. He never was any good around town, and he’s a desperate man. Hum! let’s see!” He turned to the letter again. “‘Come and join me, Jack. We’ll go West and have a good time. Bring some money.’ Well, I’ve got the money, all right. Now to start West. I’ll ride the motor as far as the depot and take a train.”

Replacing the letter and the belt of gold in his pockets, Pender remounted his machine and started off down the road, dark shadows from the trees soon hiding him.

It was just about this time that Dr. Morrison had completed his preparations to visit the injured miner. The physician took a seat in the auto beside Bob, Ned and Jerry being in front, the latter steering.

“Now, don’t go too fast,” cautioned the doctor to Jerry. “You know I’m an old-fashioned man, and not used to making professional visits any faster than my horse, old Dobbins, can take me. I don’t want an upset.”

Jerry promised to be cautious. The moon had begun to go down, and it was no easy task steering along the shadowy road, but the boy managed it, and soon the deserted hut was reached.

“Now to see what sort of a case I have,” spoke the doctor.

“I’ll bring one of the oil lamps,” said Jerry, unfastening a lantern from the dashboard, after stopping the automobile engine. “You can see to work by it.”

The boys and Dr. Morrison entered the hut. Jerry held the lamp up high to illuminate the place.

“Now I’m ready,” announced the physician. “Where is the patient?” and he opened his medical case.

In wonderment the boys gazed around the hut. To their astonishment, there was not the slightest sign of the wounded miner. He had disappeared!

CHAPTER V.
THE MYSTERY OF THE MINER.

“He’s gone!” exclaimed Ned.

“Are you sure he was here?” inquired the physician.

Of that the boys had not the slightest doubt, and they speedily convinced the medical man. The lantern was flashed in every corner of the hut, but there was not a sign of the miner.

“It’s rather queer,” commented Dr. Morrison, when he had listened to the details the boys gave him.

“Do you suppose some one came and carried him off?” asked Bob.

“More likely he was not as badly hurt as you supposed,” replied Dr. Morrison. “He may have been only stunned by a blow on the head. When he regained his senses he probably feared another attack, and so he hurried from the hut. Let me take the lamp.”

The physician flashed the lantern outside the door of the cabin, holding it close to the ground.

“I thought so,” he said. “See, there are a few grains of the gold-dust showing on the door sill, and here are more, farther along the path. The man has gone away, and has left a little golden trail.”

The physician attempted to follow it, but the yellow specks soon disappeared and there was no other clew.

“Depend on it, he has run away in fear,” said the doctor. “Rather disappointing, too. I believe he could tell a queer story. Who robbed him, I wonder?”

“It was——” began Bob, but a nudge from Jerry stopped him.

“We saw some one run from the hut,” explained Jerry. “We gave chase in the automobile, but the fellow cut across lots and we couldn’t follow.”

“I suppose I may as well go back,” announced the doctor. “There is no use staying here. I don’t believe the miner will return and solve the mystery for us.”

The auto was turned toward Cresville and a quick trip was made, the boys speculating among themselves on what might be revealed if the wounded man could be found.

The physician was left at his home, and then the boys began thinking of their beds, as it was growing late.

“Queer that both Noddy and Jack should turn thieves, isn’t it?” remarked Jerry.

“And that we should happen to be mixed up in both cases,” put in Ned. “I wonder if we will meet either of them again.”

If the boys could have looked into the future they would have seen that they were destined to soon encounter Noddy and Jack, and under the strangest of circumstances.

The auto was put away and three tired boys were soon snoring in their beds. They were up bright and early the next morning and in consultation about the proposed trip to Chicago. They called on Mr. Wakefield to learn his plans.

He said he expected to start for the Windy City by way of New York, on Thursday. It was then Tuesday, and the boys realized that they had little time to spare in which to make their preparations.

The three parents, who had somewhat reluctantly given their consent to the project, were soon almost as enthusiastic as the boys. Stocks of clothing were looked over, money matters were arranged, and the boys packed their dress-suit cases with what they thought would do them on the trip. They were each given a fairly liberal allowance of funds.

Then the automobile was got ready. It was given a thorough overhauling, and an extra supply of tools, together with a full new set of tires, was provided. Andy Rush was told to prepare to go, it having been decided to take him as far as New York or Chicago, he having relatives in both cities.

At last the time came to start. It was a fine, crisp September morning, and the boys were up early enough to see the