"Sure thing. Guess Elmer is going to take us at our word, and borrow a mount," observed Nat, cheerfully.
Accordingly they put on an extra spurt, and managed to gain enough ground so as to come alongside.
"I heard what you were saying, boys," Elmer immediately remarked, as soon as he saw that they were up with him; "but you're away off in your calculations. It isn't one of those Fairfield fellows at all who's jumped my claim with that borrowed motorcycle!"
"W—w—what's that?" gasped Toby.
"I said that it wasn't a Fairfield fellow who ran off with my machine," repeated Elmer, more positively than before.
"Well, you make me feel like thirty cents," observed Nat; "now, what under the sun would one of our boys want with a motorcycle when, if he rides on it, for even a minute, he's disqualified in the race?"
"It wasn't one of our scouts either," said Elmer.
"Then for goodness' sake tell us who it could be, Elmer!" cried Toby.
"I haven't even glimpsed him once yet, though he's only a little way ahead of us right now," the scout leader said; "but judging from the fact that his shoes are all broken out, I'm almost dead sure he's some Wandering Willie."
"He means a hobo, a common tramp!" exclaimed Toby in astonishment.