“Merciful wonders!” burst from Osgood. “It’s Roy Hooker!”
[CHAPTER XXV—INTO THE OLD QUARRY.]
For a double reason they did not call to Hooker; not only was it unlikely that he would heed them, but the men on the Barville road would doubtless hear their cries. So Osgood, who had been gauging his speed by that of the crippled Shultz, immediately shot forward, leaving Charley limping behind, but doing his utmost.
Realizing how difficult it would be to run down the deranged lad in the dark depths of the heavy pines, Ned strained every nerve to reach him before he could plunge into the woods. To his dismay, he quickly perceived that this would be impossible, Hooker being very fleet of foot. At the last moment Osgood ventured to call, suppressing his voice in a measure, and hoping against hope that the unreasoning fugitive might give heed.
“Roy—Roy Hooker!” he cried. “We’re friends. We won’t hurt you. Stop, Roy—stop! Wait for us!”
Had Hooker been stone deaf, the words would have had no more effect. Not a particle did he relax in his flight, and Ned was some rods away when Roy was swallowed by the black shadows of the timbers.
Into the woods Osgood dashed, still hoping that through some chance he might overtake the fleeing lad. There was not much undergrowth amid the pines, yet for a time the persistent pursuer was guided by the sounds of the other boy, who turned and twisted and zigzagged here and there in a most baffling way.
“We’re friends, Roy—we’re friends!” Osgood called again and again. “Don’t be afraid of us! Wait a minute!”
It was useless. The guiding sounds grew fainter, and at last, unable to hear them, Osgood stopped to listen. Then he realized that behind him Shultz was calling, begging not to be abandoned.
“We were so close, so close!” muttered Ned, in deep disappointment. “If we’d only got a little nearer before he started, I could have run him down.”