"Course you did. He was the feller that captained them boys this
morning in the game we watched while waitin' for our chance," said
the other.

"He was, hey? Well, you want to keep your eye on that boy, then,
mark me. They told me some high-colored yarns about him at the
inn."

Frank was not in the least elated over hearing himself praised. In
truth, just then he was wrestling with the puzzling problem
presented by his strange situation.

What "chance" did the man called Bart refer to? Who were these
mysterious men, and what did they have in the bottom of the
tonneau that seemed so precious in the eyes of the fellow who was
badly hurt? He could, for the time being, forget his severe
injuries to make inquiries concerning this package, hence it must
be of considerable value.

Were they thieves? If this was indeed the new machine belonging to
Bones' father, it looked suspicious, to say the least.

What could he do? They wanted him to take them somewhere, and in
a hurry, too; were they in full flight, desirous of getting to a
certain place before the pursuit became too fierce?

If Frank shivered while considering these momentous things, it
could hardly be wondered at. The situation was one to give
concern to the bravest man, and, after all, he was but a boy,