He thought of making his way to the nearest farm house, and asking for
the loan of a horse and carriage, but he looked so much like a tramp
that no farmer would lend him a horse.

"And I need to make speed," he murmured.

At that moment he heard a noise down the road. It was a steady "chug-
chug," like some distant motor-boat, but there was no water near at
hand.

"A motorcycle!" exclaimed Mark. "Some one is coming on a motorcycle.
Oh, if I could only borrow it!"

He ran down into the road. He could see the rider now. To his joy it
was Dick Johnson--the lad who had brought him the mysterious note.

"Hi Dick! Dick! hold on!" cried Mark.

The lad on the motor gave one glance at the ragged figure that had
hailed him. Then he turned on more power to escape from what he thought
was a savage tramp.

"Wait! Stop! I want that motorcycle!" cried Mark.

"Well, you're not going to get it!" yelled back Dick. "I'll send the
police after you."

Mark couldn't understand. Then a glance down at his ragged garments
showed him what was the matter.