too, but this "master of the world" set them a pace that no
fourteen-year-old boys on earth could have followed with any hope
of success.

"Whoop, but he's an airship for speed!" gasped Dave Darrin.

"We couldn't catch him with a locomotive," confessed Dick, when,
panting, he was at last obliged to halt.

"Hear him---going," gasped Darrin.

"I can't hear him," confessed Dick, after a moment of listening.

"That's just the point. He has gotten so far away that we can't
hear him crashing through the undergrowth."

"I'm afraid we won't catch up with him again to-day," sighed Dick.

"The folks who are trying to catch Amos Garwood are foolish in
sending detectives to look for him," muttered Dave. "They ought
to hire professional sprinters."

Away at their rear sounded a fainter whoop.

"Answer the fellows, Dave," urged Prescott.

"I will---when I get some wind," muttered Darrin.

Three times more Greg and his fellows whooped before Dick could
get together enough wind to make his voice travel. Greg repeated