In scarcely more time than it takes to tell it, the boys had possessed
themselves of their guns, flashlights, overcoats, hats, and "a bite to
eat on the run," and were dashing out along the path leading down to
the road that skirted the foothill to the southward. Presently,
however, they slowed down to a "dog trot" at the suggestion of
Clifford Long, who warned his fellow Scouts against "tuckering
themselves out."

They continued along in this manner half a mile and then, by common
consent, reduced their pace to a walking long stride. As they
proceeded thus, Ernie said to Clifford Long and one or two others
nearest him:

"I'm afraid we've made a mistake in not doing one thing that has just
occurred to me. What I ought to have done was to hurry home, got the
automobile and made a race for the police station while you boys made
this trip. In that way we could 'ave had a double chance of catching
those bandits. If everything had gone smoothly, I might even have
beaten you boys to the scene of the hold-up with an auto load of
police. I could 'ave left word, too, for someone to call up Mr.
Stanlock's office and warn him, if by any cause he had been delayed."

"I don't think much of that suggestion," replied Clifford; "for, if
they haven't got him started by this time, they're not likely to get
him going their way tonight. But the other'd 'a' been a good one. It's
too bad you didn't think of it sooner."

"Too late now," said Ernie. "We've got to make the best of it."