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Updated: July 28, 2025
Bruce and the lads on the motorcycles put on high speed and took the grade in whirlwind fashion but "Old Nanc" was not equal to the hill, so she was parked in a lot by the lakeside and the rest of the troop went up to the cave on foot. Immediately upon their arrival activities began. Mr.
It runs straight and level as an arrow for sometimes fifty miles at a stretch. Many and noted were the machines entered for this great race. Every kind of motor vehicle was permitted to compete, even motorcycles, as well as automobiles. The machines were of all makes and nationalities.
Ford now and talk it over with him. Who wants to go along?" "I'll go," said Bud Weir. "So'll I," added Romper. "All right, come along," replied Bruce. And five minutes later three motorcycles were scooting out toward the hydro-electric plant where Mr. Ford, the Quarry Troop's Assistant Scoutmaster, was superintendent.
He saw that the others began to wobble in their movements, which was plain evidence that they had tired themselves out by their night tramp, and were in no condition to compete with the motorcycles, even on this rough stretch of road. The tall, athletic-looking leader of the trio suddenly jumped aside, and stooped over as if snatching something from the ground.
But then he had taken the fork which led to the hooded doorway over the kitchen; had descended the kitchen stairs with Lydia, to the servants' sitting room in the basement. Now he continued along the main driveway to the more impressive entrance, whose flanking, slim turrets frowned down upon a line of police cars and motorcycles.
Now good luck to you and I hope our Fourth of July celebration is a big success," said the town's chief, dismissing them with a bow. The scouts were all smiles as they descended the broad steps of the town hall and started down the gravel path to the street, where they had left their motorcycles. "Jove, we'll have some celebration, eh, fellows?" said Romper. "You bet we will," assured Bud.
On the contrary, they saw two of the motorcycles bobbing along in the most erratic manner possible, moving from one side of the rough road to the other, and mounted on the same were a couple of roughly dressed men, either tramps, or journeymen on the road looking for a job. "Tell me about that, will you!" gasped Jerry. "Why, the blooming idiots mean to steal our machines!" cried Bluff.
Khaki and guns, men trudging along, bearing the burdens of war, motor trucks, rushing ponderously along, carrying ammunition and food, messengers on motorcycles, sounding to all traffic that might be in the way the clamorous summons to clear the path those were the sights we saw! How hopelessly confused it all seemed! I could not believe that there was order in the chaos that I saw.
There they found Hans and Sandy! The boys had followed them on from Tientsin in an automobile which an English merchant was taking through. Both boys were riding motorcycles, and were already proficient enough to proceed with the others, using the machines which had been ridden by the wounded marines, who were sent on to Peking in charge of Captain Martin.
Bungel," she heard as she stood gaping and listening and ready to run at the terrible official's first move, "Mr. Bungel, if you want to know where those two fellers are that stole the motorcycles, they're hiding in Kelly's barn and I guess they'll stay there till dark. So if you want to go and get them you'll get two hundred and fifty dollars as long as you don't say who told you where they are."
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