It started off at a rattling pace, which fact seemed to tickle the owner very much indeed. "Say, blest if I don't think that tumble must have just knocked it back into its old shape again!" he exclaimed in glee. "Haven't heard her take the spark like that for a year and more. Hoopla! Nat, give yours a try. Hope the same good luck fell your way." However, such was not the case. Indeed, Nat's machine utterly balked, and refused to do anything. Even after Elmer had spent as much as fifteen minutes puttering over it he could not make it behave. "I'll give it just one more try, Nat," he declared finally, "and then if it won't work, I'm afraid Toby and myself will have to leave you here. We've just _got_ to get along now, or it'll all be too late." "That's right, Elmer," declared the scout, manfully. "I'm not the one to kick on account of being sacrificed for the good of the troop. Lil Artha must be protected against these Fairfield bullies. And if I have to hang out here till after dark, why I'll just feel that I'm doing my little part of the work. But I hope you make it this time, Elmer, because I'd rather be along with you, and have an active share in the rush." Once more did Elmer bend down over the motorcycle as it leaned against a tree. Two minutes later there suddenly broke forth a rattle of sharp reports and the rear wheel flew around at a dizzy pace. "Good, good! You did it, Elmer! She's in the running again; and I won't have to camp out here on the road till some wagon comes along to pick me up." And filled with newborn pleasure, Nat proceeded to execute a hornpipe right then and there. "Well, get along with you both, then; I'll overtake you in about three shakes of a lamb's tail," laughed Elmer, as he stepped off along the road to where he had left his motorcycle. Ten seconds later the others, just about to start out, heard him calling aloud. "He says, hurry, Nat," cried Toby, for a little bend in the road hid their chum from them; and not waiting to test their machines any further they were off. They found Elmer running around, with his head bent low, as though he might be interested in the make of the roadbed. "What is it, Elmer?" asked Toby, coming to a stop. "My motorcycle has gone!" was the startling reply the scout leader made. CHAPTER VII. IN HOT PURSUIT. TOBY and Nat stared, first at Elmer, and then at each other. Plainly they could not understand what he meant by these strange words. "Er--d'ye mean you forget just where you left it, Elmer?" asked Toby. "I tell you it's gone, vanished completely, disappeared!" said the scout leader, with a show of anger in his usually steady voice. "Great goodness, Nat, he means somebody's swiped it!" ejaculated Toby, his mouth opening in his astonishment. Nat looked all around him, and then, not seeing a single trace of the fine motorcycle, he began "barking," as Toby called it, after his own peculiar way.