As they reached a lonely stretch of woods, just below getting into the village, three figures sprang out from the underbrush. Over their faces were strips of cloth, and at the first sight of the trio our friends drew back in some alarm, feeling they had met with a gang of highwaymen.
“That’s the one—in the centre!” called a hoarse voice, and a grab was made for Bill. Before his brothers or Whistle-Breeches could rally to his aid he was borne off, struggling and kicking against his unknown captors.
“Into the car with him—quick!” was the whispered order, and, ere the three lads left standing in the road had recovered from their astonishment, there sounded the chug-chug of an automobile, and Bill was whisked away.
“Well, wouldn’t that get your goat!” gasped Cap, as he stood looking at the fast-disappearing red tail lamp of the machine. “They’ve got Bill!”
“Come on after ’em!” yelled Pete, starting down the highway on a run. “We’ve got to rescue him!”
CHAPTER XXV
TO THE RESCUE
“Here! Come back!” cried Cap.