"Wait till we get out with Martin Mabie, fellows. He's on the ground, and can set us straight. Jesse has been trapping these little animals around here so long now he's a back number," joked Jerry, at which the trapper laughed, for he was
very fond of these four lads, and nothing they said annoyed him.
As they had planned, the run home was made by moonlight. This necessitated that they walk with their machines until the good road was gained, below the lumber camp.
"I wonder whether those two tramps hit the high places, and got out of this neighborhood for keeps?" Bluff was saying, after they had mounted and were bowling along merrily toward town.
"The chances are that way. That tramp printer must be a bad sort of chap, it seems to me, and if Hank keeps along in his society I can see his finish," answered Jerry over his shoulder.
They had not made more than a mile when once more Frank gave a quick toot of his horn that brought the little procession up in a hurry.
"What ails us now?" demanded Bluff.
"Frank's bending over something in the road, as sure as you live!" called Will.
"Tell me about that, will you! Seems as if our lively times haven't stopped yet. It never rains but it pours, fellows. Hi! Frank, what's the matter? Say! Would you believe it? There's a man lying in the road!"
Jerry made haste to push his heavy motorcycle forward so as to reach the side of his kneeling chum.