Garry looked up at the sun and then remarked to his chums:
“It will be dark in two hours, and we can make just about six miles in that time without exerting ourselves too much. We haven’t done much of anything all day so if we want to let out a bit we can tack on an extra mile in that time and so save ourselves a bit of extra walking tomorrow. Let’s go.”
Hitching up their packs, the trio of chums set off at a brisk pace. The setting of the sun made it much cooler and the walking was pleasant. They passed through a small village and were well on the outskirts where the houses were beginning to get scattered, and they were deciding how far to proceed before picking a spot to camp for the night when they heard a call for help and the sounds of a scuffle. In the gathering gloom they could not see where the trouble was, but hastening towards the spot from where the voices seemed to come, they approached a bend in the road, and turning, saw two men attacking a third.
The attackers seemed to be rough specimens of humanity, while the third was a young man, fairly well dressed. This gave the affair the aspect of a robbery instead of a quarrel among a lot of ruffians, so calling his chums to hurry, Garry threw his rifle to his shoulder and shouted to the attacking party to throw up their hands.
The surprised thugs took one look at the business-like rifle in Garry’s hands, and then deciding that they might perchance overpower him seemed to be on the verge of rushing toward him when Phil and Dick turned the bend in the road. Seeing that they were outnumbered, and with no thought of the fact that the boys might fire on them, they turned on their heels and ran. Garry was about to send a shot flying after them when the young man who had been the subject of the attack called to Garry to let them go.
Just then he toppled over and fell at full length at Garry’s feet.
CHAPTER III
A NEW ALLY
Garry hastily unstrapped his canteen and unloosing the stopper, poured some of the water on the man’s face. At the same time, Dick, showing a surprising amount of speed for one so undeniably stout, sprang to help Garry and unloosed the man’s shirt collar.
In a few moments the man had been revived, and when he had come to, Garry asked him if he had been shot or stabbed or wounded in any way.
“No,” replied the man weakly. “One of those jacks hit me on the head with a club, and I guess I just got groggy. I wonder if you boys could help me home, I live a few hundred yards down the road.”