In the first volume of this series, entitled “The Motor Boys,” the reason for this name being given Jerry Hopkins, Ned Slade and Bob Baker was very fully set forth. Ned Slade’s father was a wealthy department store owner in Cresville, and Bob Baker’s father was president of the richest bank in that section. Jerry Hopkins’ father was dead, but had left his widow, Mrs. Julia Hopkins, very well off, and Jerry managed to keep up his end with his two chums.
Jerry, the tallest of the three lads, was a rather quiet and thoughtful youth, destined to be a leader. Ned was the best dresser of the three, if that is any compliment, and Bob Baker—well, when it is said that his nickname was “Chunky,” more has been told than could be divulged in several pages. Of his appetite, sufficient testimony has been given.
The home of the Motor Boys was in Cresville, in one of the New England states, but from there the boys had traveled to many other parts of their own country and foreign lands. As you know, they had recently come back from the great war.
But before this, when they were not circumventing tricks of the notorious Noddy Nixon and his crony, Jack Pender, the boys had traveled overland, to Mexico, and across the great plains in a motor car. They had been afloat on the Atlantic and in strange waters, voyaging at times in a motor boat, and the various volumes tell of their activities.
As if the earth was not wide enough for them, the lads had even ventured into the clouds in aeroplanes and balloons, and when they had a chance to go in a submarine they did not hesitate. Part of their time they spent at school—Boxwood Hall—but after the war they had voted unanimously that they could not take up their quiet studies again; at least, not at once.
The volume immediately preceding this present one is entitled “The Motor Boys Bound for Home; or, Ned, Bob and Jerry on the Wrecked Troopship.” They had some strenuous times, in part with their old friend, Professor Snodgrass, and they had not long been at home when the letter came from their officer friend, written from his western mining camp.
However, all thoughts of gold mines were now driven from the heads of the lads as they saw the immediate necessity of quick action if they were to save the woman and the two children now appealing for help in the burning farmhouse.
“Get the ladder!” cried Jerry. “We can easily help them down to the roof of that one-story extension. Then they can jump to the ground if they have to.”
“They won’t have to—we can move the ladder!” shouted Ned, as he dashed for it.