flashed into Henry's mind that they had been frightened by
the roadster ahead. But he had no time to think of anything. The
frantic animals bore down on him like an express-train. Quick as
thought Henry turned sharply to the right and threw on his power. The
horses were almost upon him. The driver glimpsed him, cursed him
savagely for having no light, and gave a powerful heave on the reins.
The horses swerved in one direction as Henry shot in the other, missing
them by less than a foot. Before he could straighten his machine
again, it had left the road and was plunging over the rough surface of
a field.

Henry jammed his brake on so suddenly that it toppled him from the
saddle, but neither he nor the machine was injured. He turned the
motor-cycle about and headed for the road. And now his hair almost
stood on end. In the darkness he could dimly see some great lumber
piles, as large as houses. He had all but crashed into them at high
speed. Now he understood why the roadster's light had disappeared when
the car turned the curve. It had been hidden by these great lumber
piles. Rapidly Henry ran back to the road. He knew the motor-car
would now be far ahead of him. He should have to hasten to overtake
it. He ran along the highway, pushing his machine, and leaped to the
saddle when the engine began to explode regularly. Then he turned the
curve and peered ahead into the darkness. The road seemed to lie
straight before him, but the motor-car had utterly vanished.

For a moment Henry rode on, almost bewildered. Then he looked rapidly
about him. No farmhouse was in sight to which the motorcar might have
gone. No light gleamed anywhere. But he could dimly see trees here
and there. And he made out a wooden fence lining the left side of the
road.

"Lucky I didn't shoot in that direction when I met that team," muttered
Henry. "I'd have gone clear through that fence." He dismounted, set
his machine up, and took out his pocket torch. Holding it close to the
road, he began to examine the highway. "There are the marks of his
rear tires," he muttered.

And thankful indeed was the puzzled scout that he had learned so well
at Camp Brady to observe carefully. He mounted his wheel and rode a
few hundred yards further. Then he examined the road again. He found
the tracks he was searching for. He rode on and dismounting, found in
two places the telltale marks. But the third time he examined the
highway th