"But now?" asked Mr. Garrabrant, smiling. "It looks good to me, as Lil Artha would say," replied Elmer. "If ever a fellow seemed in earnest, Felix was when he said those words just now. And I feel positive that when he hears the story of how some of his friends tried to make Lil Artha ride, so as to knock him out of the race, Felix will be furious." Which prediction proved to be the case a little later; but we cannot afford either the time or space to go into particulars with regard to this. "Now we have another job before us," remarked Mr. Garrabrant, when ten o'clock had arrived. "You mean looking up the cripples--those who are ready to admit that their hope of reaching Little Falls within the required time has died out; and who will be only too willing to get a lift back home?" Elmer suggested. "Why, yes, some of them must be in a pretty bad way; and as it still threatens rain we must look them all up. I have three cars here that can be used for the job. Would you care to run ahead, and try to hunt them up, Elmer?" "Yes, on one condition," came the reply. "Oh, you can consider that it is granted before you ask; but what is its nature?" Mr. Garrabrant inquired, laughingly. "That I ride alone," answered the boy. "Oh, I see," the scout master went on, nodding his head wisely; "you dread having Toby and Nat along with their decrepit wheels to add to your troubles." "Yes," said Elmer, seriously; "because I can make much better time alone, rain or not. Besides, I think the boys ought to have a rest; and it would really be better if they put up here in Little Falls with some Boy Scout friends until to-morrow, when they can come home." "All right; I shall so advise them; though if they choose to leave their motorcycles here until some future day, they can just as well ride back in a car." Both Toby and Nat, however, had friends in the town, and concluded to stay over. Their machines had taken on a new life apparently, since their association with Elmer and they were much encouraged. Accordingly, the leader of the Wolf Patrol started out. Fifty miles or so does not amount to a great deal when mounted on a good motorcycle; and if that threatened storm would only hold off a few hours, Elmer felt that he would have little cause for complaint. As he rode along the thoroughfare he frequently sounded his horn in such a way that any stragglers would know it was meant for a signal to show themselves. It was to be Elmer's duty to warn them that the cars would soon be along, and that they could get back to Hickory Ridge in that way if they preferred. About five miles out he heard a shout, and some one who was standing alongside the road waved his hat. It was Matty, the leader of the Beaver Patrol. Elmer immediately jumped off his machine and put the question up to his fellow scout. But he really knew what the answer would be before the other opened his mouth.