Picking up their guns the boys started off on the trail with Tom in the lead. They had not gone very far on the way when Tom stopped and raised his hand.
“There is something or someone coming,” he whispered as the others came up with him. “Get behind or into the bushes until we see who it is, or what.”
Only a person with ears trained by experience in the woods would have detected the approach of someone as Tom had. There was an occasional snapping of a twig or rustling in the bushes as the coming object moved. There was an unevenness about the movements that puzzled the boys.
With his rifle cocked and ready for instant use, Tom crouched behind the bush ready for quick action if necessary. Then as the figure of someone came into view, moving slowly, and stealthily through the woods, he sprang forward.
“Hallo, Juarez,” he called. “Anything the matter? Where have you been?”
“Where is Jim?” asked Juarez.
“Jim?” echoed Tom. “I don’t know. Isn’t he with you?”
“Then those pirates have got him!” exclaimed Juarez. “I tried to get back to warn him, but I had a fall, and it took me longer than I expected.”
“Come. Sit down and tell us about it,” said the professor, fixing, meanwhile a place beneath a tree, “while I see what is the matter with you. Where are you hurt?”