"There's someone there, too," said Jack. "He's tugging at a cycle, as if he were trying to get ready to start it."
"That'll be Dick, then," said Harry, greatly relieved. "All right—I'll go ahead!"
He went on then, and soon he, too, saw Dick busy with the motorcycle.
"Won't he be glad to see me, though?" he thought. "Poor old Dick! I'll bet he's had a hard time."
Then he called, softly. And Dick turned. But—it was not Dick. It was
Ernest Graves!
CHAPTER IX
AN UNEXPECTED BLOW!
For a moment it would have been hard to lay which of them was more completely staggered and amazed.
"What are you doing here?" Harry gasped, finally.
And then, all at once, it came over him that it did not matter what Ernest answered, that there could be no reasonable and good explanation for what he had caught Graves doing.