"Are you hurt?" asked Joe, stopping to help him rise.
"No, I'm all right," gasped Biff, scrambling to his feet. He had suffered bruises but seemed otherwise uninjured. However, when he began to run again Joe noticed that he was limping and his progress was slower than formerly.
Frank had the battered flashlight, but he did not dare switch it on for fear of revealing their whereabouts to the men. The latter, however, were stumbling along behind, following the trail by reason of the noise the boys made in their mad flight toward the trees.
The men had the advantage in that they knew every inch of the rocky ground. The boys had to proceed more cautiously because it was unfamiliar to them, especially to Chet and Biff.
Biff was limping along in the rear and Joe purposely slowed down his pace so as to remain with his chum. But the delay was fatal. Out of the darkness came one of their pursuers, and with a growl of triumph he flung himself at Biff.
His arms encircled the lad's legs in a perfect tackle and Biff went down with a crash. Joe wheeled about and plunged upon them, striking out desperately to fight off Biff's attacker. They struggled fiercely in the darkness. Joe felt his fist crash into the man's face and he heard a grunt of pain. Biff was wriggling out of his assailant's grasp, and the boys might indeed have made their escape had it not been that the other men came running up out of the shadows.
With a roar of fury, two of them plunged at the boys and hauled them away from their comrade.
"After the other two!" shouted a voice, which they recognized as that of Red, "They're heading for the bushes!"
Joe and Biff found themselves roughly hauled to their feet, their arms held tightly behind them. They heard the clatter of footsteps as two of the other men ran after Frank and Chet.
"Back to the cave with 'em," growled Red. "Looks like we've got one of the guys that helped 'em get away. I've been thinkin' all day that there was some one hangin' around here that we didn't know about."