At last they gained the bottom of the rocky hill. There was a small meadow to cross, beyond which was the wagon-road, lined with trees and bushes.
“Help!” they heard somebody cry. “Help! help!”
“That is Mr. Strong’s voice!” exclaimed Andy.
“I see the horse and carriage!” answered Jack, pointing down the road. “Look, the carriage is empty!”
“And the horse is running away!” finished his chum, as they saw the steed dash onward at a gallop.
“Help! help!” came the cry again. Both boys looked around, but could see no one.
“Shall we call to him?” asked Andy.
“No! no!” answered Jack, hastily. “That will put his assailants on guard. Come, the cry came from yonder.”
Forward the two boys darted once more, and then Andy called a halt.
“We haven’t anything in the way of weapons,” said he. “Let us get clubs.”