deserted, with papers and motorcycles alike gone, may be imagined.
For a moment he thought he must be mistaken, that, after all, he
had come to the wrong place. But a quick search of the ground
with his flashlight showed him that he had come to the right spot.
He could see the tracks made by the wheels of the machine; he
could see, also, evidences of the brief struggle between Harry and
Graves. For a moment his mystification continued. But then, with
a low laugh, Jack Young emerged from the cover in which he had
been hiding.

"Hello, there!" he said. "I say, are you Dick Mercer?"

"Yes!" gasped Dick. "But however do you know? I never saw you
before!"

"Well, you see me now," said Jack. "Harry Fleming told me to look
for you here. He said you'd be along some time tonight, if you
got away. And he was sure you could get away, too."

"Harry!" said Dick, dazed. "You've seen him? Where is he? Did
he get away? And what happened to the cycles and the papers we
hid there? Why --"

"Hold on! One question at a time," said Jack. "Keep your shirt
on, and I'll tell you all I know about it. Then we can decide
what is to be done next. I think I'll attach myself temporarily
to your patrol."

"Oh, you're a scout, too, are you?" asked Dick.