"Sounds reasonable at any rate, Bones. And Strawberry is doing
pretty good hustling right now, considering the heavy condition of
our weight, in the way of game. My folks will think I'm something
on the shoot, I guess," remarked Frank, humorously.

"You really got seven--" began Ralph, when his friend interrupted.

"Never mind about that. One fellow is always lucky above the rest.
Never knew it to fail. To-day it might be me, to-morrow you. So it
goes. Forget it, both of you."

Ralph said nothing more. He knew the nature of his chum, and that
Frank had not a selfish bone in his body. If there was any sport
going around he wanted every one to have their full share of it,
nor could he rest happy unless this were so.

They had passed over several miles of the main road, and all of
them were somehow feeling a bit drowsy from their unusual
exertions of the day, when, without warning, the horse snorted
and came to a full stop.

"What's this mean?" demanded Bones, in astonishment.

"There's something on the road ahead of us," declared Ralph,
bending forward in order to see the better, for the shadows fell
across the tree-bordered pike.

"I'm not sure," ventured Frank, "but it seems like some sort of
vehicle to me. Perhaps there's been an accident. Wait while I jump