It was pretty hard traveling, after a day of heavy tramping. The forlorn condition of the woman, however, appealed to both the boys.
“We are very near Brambly Fork now,” spoke the woman at the end of four hours, during which time they had rested frequently. “Another turn in the valley and we will be there.”
“Sure enough!” cried Hiram with animation.
They had come upon a spot well shut in on three sides with trees. A big campfire was burning, and near it were gathered a dozen or more men. Their interest was centered on a man who stood with his arms bound behind him.
“Why,” cried Dave, “it’s Mr. King!”
CHAPTER XVI
IN FRIENDLY HANDS
The young aviator did not delay for a single instant. So precipitately did he start for the group about the tree, that he fairly knocked Hiram off his footing.
“The mischief!” gasped the latter, righting himself and staring aghast at the scene a little distance ahead of them.
“Stop! stop!” shouted Dave at the top of his voice, as he dashed across the open stretch, and momentarily came nearer and nearer to the men who surrounded the airmen.
Dave had a right to be urgent, for two men had seized hold of Mr. King as if to handle him roughly.