The Outdoor Chums After Big Game | Page 6

a second series of erratic poppings.
Evidently those who were meddling with the motorcycles did not have
a thorough knowledge of how to work the same, for the sounds would
suddenly cease and then start up again.
"Oh! don't I wish they'd just take headers over some nice fat root!"
gasped the perspiring Will, still hugging his precious camera to his
heart as he followed in Frank's wake.
The latter had made for the road in as direct a line as possible. Progress
was bound to be slow through the dense undergrowth, and the sooner
they struck the open the quicker they could hope to gain on the thieves.
In this fashion they came upon the road at last. Of course, their eyes
immediately turned down its sinuous way to the quarter whence the

excitable popping sounds still continued to come.
The sight that met their eyes amazed them. All of the chums had
naturally expected that they would discover some mischievous school
companions, who, seeing them coming, had hatched up this little game
with the intention of playing a practical joke.
Nothing of the kind. On the contrary, they saw two of the motorcycles
bobbing along in the most erratic manner possible, moving from one
side of the rough road to the other, and mounted on the same were a
couple of roughly dressed men, either tramps, or journeymen on the
road looking for a job.
"Tell me about that, will you!" gasped Jerry.
"Why, the blooming idiots mean to steal our machines!" cried Bluff.
"Oh! what luck that I thought to take my camera with me!" came from
Will.
Frank only made one remark, but it was characteristic of the boy:
"After them, fellows!"
Then began a mad chase. Had the road been half-way decent, the boys
would have had no chance of overtaking the thieves; but those exposed
roots, while not bothersome to the lumbermen, proved extremely so to
the men who were trying to make off with the motorcycles.
They dared not put on great speed. More than this, much of their time
was taken up with dodging the stones and other things that threatened
to bring sudden disaster upon them.
Hence it was that the boys, having considerable sprinting ability, began
to rapidly overhaul the fleeing rascals. The two men dared not cast a
single glance behind, and consequently the only means they had of
knowing how close their pursuers might be would lie in any shouts
given by Frank and his chums.

As he ran, the leading boy cast an occasional look alongside the path.
He was in search of a good stout cudgel. Knowing that the chances
were the affair would presently come to a face-to-face issue between
the two parties, he wished to be prepared as well as possible.
"Bully stunt!" exclaimed Jerry as he followed suit.
They were now drawing close upon the fugitives, who were having a
nerve-racking time dodging those numerous roots.
Knowing that the angry owners of the wheels must be close upon them,
the men endeavored to increase their speed, with disastrous results.
"Wow!" shouted Jerry, as he saw one of the riders suddenly shoot out
of his saddle and take a header, to be followed by his companion a
second later.
CHAPTER III
HOMEWARD BOUND, BY MOONLIGHT
"Jump 'em!" shouted Frank as he threw himself upon the first fellow,
floundering in the road.
"I'm on!" echoed Jerry, suiting the action to the words by propelling
himself straight at the second motorcycle thief.
This fellow happened to have come through his fall without getting
hurt. The consequence was, he felt disposed to put up a much better
fight than his confused companion, upon whose prostrate form Frank
had straddled.
He rolled over once or twice with remarkable agility, causing Jerry to
miss his guess when he thought to drop on him. Then, scrambling to his
knees, the man, who turned out to be a rough-looking chap, indeed,
pulled something out of his pocket, which he aimed at the two boys
about to pounce upon him.

"Keep back, you!" he roared, his mouth being half filled with dirt after
he had plowed up the earth of the roadway with his face.
"He's got a pistol!" shrieked Will, who was fingering his camera
nervously from a point somewhat in the rear; and they immediately
heard the little suggestive click that announced the pressure of a finger
on the trigger.
Bluff was the quick-witted one on this occasion. He had his stick
upraised at the time, ready to strike. Instead, he sent it from him
suddenly with all his power, and as the cudgel was no light one, when it
struck the extended arm of the kneeling thief the shock was so great
that the shining object he had been gripping was hurled