"I see what it is," grumbled Martin, with a shrug of his broad shoulders to signify disgust; "you're one of them fellers that's born under a lucky star, Frank Allen. Things just naturally come your way all the time. We was big fools to have anything to do with you. Joey here suggested it first."
"Aw! go hang yourself, Martin! Didn't you say how we might squeeze some valuable news outen the kid if we grabbed him? Anyhow, it don't much matter either way. Our goose is cooked, all right," snarled Joey.
"Now tell us what it all means, Frank!" pleaded the boys, still lost in wonder over the strange occurrence.
"It just happened that I ran across the two rascals who left that buggy with Lanky and myself the other night. You know all about that, fellows? Well, these are the rascals all right. They captured me when I was riding past where the spring crosses the road. And thanks to your coming up, the boot is on the other leg now. Will some of you help me get them back to town?"
"Will we? The old paper chase can go hang for all we care about it now! Why, we can just pose as real heroes this time, eh, Frank? Say, ain't that the boss thing though, fellows? Frank wants to know who'll lend a hand; now, don't all speak at once!"
But there was an immediate response, and never a soul declined the honor.
"We're all going in a bunch, Frank. Here's another belt, so you can strap the two rascals together, or make them do a lock step. Might as well get used to it, you know. So these are the real article of hold-up men, are they, ready to steal anything that comes handy? Didn't expect such high honor when we started out to overtake the bounding hares, did we, boys?"
Frank stopped at a little brook to bathe his face, since he had been told that he looked as though he had been in a free-for-all scrap. He also discovered that he felt a bit sore in a few places, as a result of the several encounters he had had with the two rogues, not to mention his fall.
But it was with a light heart that he trundled his wheel along behind the procession, and held Martin's pistol in the other hand; not that he could have had the heart to use it under any circumstances; but it seemed to be a part and parcel of the game.
"You're just the luckiest fellow I ever knew," observed Sandy, enviously, as he stalked along at Frank's side.