“Who are they?” asked Jerry.
“We’ve got to play a trick,” said Nestor, without answering the boy. “Here, you go over there to the right, about five hundred feet, and fire your gun. Leave the rest to me, and as soon as you’ve pulled the trigger hurry back to our camp.”
Jerry did not question the advice. He turned to the right, and, when he had gone what he thought was the required distance, he discharged his revolver. A loud report crashed out on the silence of the night. Jerry heard a crackling of underbrush and several shouts. Then, as Nestor had told him, he made the best of his way back to camp.
As for the miner, he had remained where he was when Jerry left him. He was watching the other automobile, and something seemed to strike him as funny, for he chuckled silently.
“I reckon there’s goin’ to be some surprises here pretty soon,” he remarked.
At the report of Jerry’s gun, those about the automobile rushed off in the direction of the shot. At the same time Nestor, who was waiting for just this very move, ran in. He fumbled about the machine for a few minutes and then, clasping something tightly in his arms, hurried back through the woods to the camp, reaching there shortly after Jerry.
Those who had been left sleeping were aroused by the gun, and they were anxious to know what the matter was. Ned told his part and then Jerry related what had befallen him and Nestor.
“But what have you there?” asked Broswick of the miner, observing that Nestor carried something.
“A box of batteries,” was the reply. “I took them off the other automobile. Now we can go ahead under our own power.”