The Outdoor Chums After Big Game | Page 4

view would, very likely, occupy all
their spare moments.

"Now let's have that letter, Frank. We want to con it so that every word
will be photographed on our brains from this time on. Didn't old Jesse
say that Martin Mabie was a big stockman now, and had really quit
being a guide and hunter? Then it's mighty kind of him to undertake to
convoy a raft of tenderfeet into the wilderness. Money didn't enter into
it, that's sure," said Bluff.
"He mentions having had a long letter from Jesse," remarked Frank.
"That settles it, then. Our good old friend has been telling him
everything we ever did, and got him interested. We must make it a
point to run up and see Jesse before we go, and thank him."
"You're right about that, Jerry," said Frank warmly. "I was thinking the
same, myself. But here's the letter. Read it for yourselves."
Various were the comments after this had been done.
"Talk to me about your good fellows! That Martin Mabie stands in a
class of his own," observed Jerry. "Think of him offering to take us into
the mountains for weeks, and see that we have the time of our lives!
And he warns us not to mention the word money to him unless we want
to break up the game. I sure am anxious to shake hands with that same
friend of old Jesse."
"I move we start up there right now and see Jesse. The day is fine, and
when can we spare the time better?" suggested Will, who secretly
wanted just another chance to try a snapshot of the queer cabin which
the trapper occupied.
"Second the motion!" cried Bluff eagerly.
"I'm some cramped, myself, from sitting so long in that canoe. Perhaps
a run on our motorcycles might give me relief. So I say go," came from
Jerry.
Frank himself believed it would be a good idea. He knew that once they
started making preparations for their Western trip nothing was apt to

tear them away.
"All right, boys. It's going to be a full moon to-night. Suppose we stop
over and have a parting supper with Jesse? He'd be dreadfully tickled at
the notion. 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.
They were plugging along, each keeping his eyes open for obstacles apt
to present themselves, such as roots cropping up above the surface,
when the leader gave a sudden toot upon the little horn attached to his
machine that warned the others a stop was imperative.
CHAPTER II
THE MOTORCYCLE THIEVES

"What's gone wrong, Frank?" demanded Bluff, dropping off his seat.
"In luck again, for I'd have banged up against that big root if Frank
hadn't given the signal just then," chuckled Will, holding up his
machine.
"A puncture, Frank?" demanded Jerry, who had been in the rear.
"Not at all. I thought I heard some one shouting. Perhaps I was
mistaken, for with a lot of motors popping away it's hard to be sure.
Still, we can stop for a minute and listen," remarked Frank seriously.
"Shouting--for help?" repeated Will, looking around nervously.
"That's queer," cried Bluff, "that we seldom go out anywhere but what
somebody calls on us for assistance. Think of it! There was the town
bully, Andy Lasher, who was caught under that falling tree in the storm,
and rescued by Jerry."
"That's a fact; and then there was Jed, the bound boy, you remember,
fellows," went on Will eagerly.
"Not to mention the saving of the aeronaut from the burning hotel by
Frank, here; and last, but not least, our giving