“Hold on, Cap. You know Miss Burrell, who seems to be the spokesman for the outfit, said strategy wasn’t barred. This isn’t a trick, it’s strategy. There’s a difference between tricking and strategy you know.”
“Boys, we’ve got to catch up with them,” declared the captain. “Are we going to let a lot of girls get the best of us?”
“No!” shouted the boys in chorus.
“Then hike! Don’t lose your wind at the start. Strike a steady clip, but after half an hour hit it up, and keep hitting it up till we catch up with them and take the lead once more. This is a fine mess, but we’ll soon be out of it with flying colors.”
The Tramp Club walked for two hours without finding any trace of the Meadow-Brook Girls. The boys were becoming worried. By this time they surely ought to have found the tracks of the girls in the road.
“You don’t think they have taken a short cut, do you?” asked Charlie.
Baker shook his head.
“They couldn’t get over those mountains. No; they have been following the side of the road, so we wouldn’t be able to pick up the trail. They’re sharp ones. They know something about trailing. That’s plain to be seen. Hark! what’s that?”
The honk, honk of an automobile horn was heard in the far distance to the rear of them. They listened a moment, then pressed on. It was not an unusual happening to be passed by a motor car. They soon realized, however, that this one was coming at a much higher rate of speed than the statute said was lawful.
A cloud of dust arose a full half mile to the rear of them. As it bore down on the boys the dust rose higher and higher.