It was past ten o’clock that night when Jerry and Jake Utway tapped softly on the door of the trunk room. The door opened a crack.

“It’s us—the twins!” Jerry whispered urgently. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. Come in,” responded a familiar voice. The two boys, with a backward look into the starlit night, slid through the doorway, and Jake snapped on his flashlight.

They saw before them a stranger. No, it was Burk—but a different Burk, a man new-made in the few hours since they had seen him. Now, they could see that he was quite a young man, a being entirely different from the haggard, bearded fugitive they had rescued. During siesta hour, as they had promised, they had smuggled into the hiding-place not only food, but also a razor with which Jake methodically scraped his upper lip every two weeks or so. They had also made up a bundle of clothing extracted from their camping outfits. But they had not expected such a transformation as that which had produced this likeable young fellow who now smiled back at them in the rays of the lantern.
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Burk had shed his drab convict’s clothing, torn and stained as it was. He was now attired in garments contributed by the twins, and wore a flannel shirt, black sweater under a Norfolk jacket, and Jake’s corduroy trousers. A pair of stout army shoes had replaced his sodden prison footwear. A cloth cap concealed his tell-tale cropped head; he would not dare to remove that cap where others might see him. His shaving operations had left a small, neat mustache on his lip, which gave him a cocky, cheerful look. In fact, the food and rest he had taken had done much to restore him to his old, care-free outlook upon life. This was a surprising Burk; he was actually grinning at them, as though his whole future did not depend upon the outcome of the adventure upon which they were about to embark.

“Is everything ready?” he asked.
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“Well,” answered Jake slowly, “we’ve had to make a few changes in our plans. It’s this way. A goofy kid named Jones, in my tent, has gone and gotten himself lost somewhere. Our leader is worried to death about what might have happened to him—this kid is a nosy bird we nicknamed Sherlock, and is always fussing around trying to detect things. He didn’t show up for supper, and everybody’s been chasing all over the place ever since, trying to find him. We’re supposed to be looking for him now ourselves.”

“I think, from what you say, that I know the boy you mean. Well, he detected himself into some trouble.”

“You’ve seen him? You know where he is?”

“I do. If you’ll look over in the corner, there by my bed, you’ll find him safe and sound, though a little scared.”

The Utway twins pushed past the speaker, and tiptoed to the place mentioned. Sure enough; there on the canvas lay Sherlock Jones, flat on his back, his wrists pinioned behind him, a gag in his mouth held in place by his own handkerchief, above which a pair of pale eyes goggled through his thick glasses with a piteous, pleading look. For some hours past, the amateur sleuth had been expecting a gruesome death any moment from the mysterious stranger who had trapped him; now, at sight of the notorious Utway brothers, he thought his last hour had struck. He wriggled in his bonds helplessly. Through all the long time of his captivity, Sherlock Jones had come to the conclusion that he didn’t want to be a famous detective. If he ever got through this harrowing experience alive, he’d never shadow another suspect again.
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“How—how did he get here?” gasped Jerry.

“I’m sorry for the poor chap, boys, but it couldn’t be helped. He was smart enough to find out where I was, and if I hadn’t tied him up, he would have had me caught in the wink of an eye! It was the only thing I could do.”

“Well, that’s not so good,” put in Jake. “Dog-gone it, why did he have to come snooping around right at this time? It’s a mess; it will make our getaway all the harder. I thought that all we would have to do would be to sneak out our stuff after Taps to-night, and hit the trail. But right now, half the camp is chasing all over the place, looking for this sap; if we try to get through now, they might easily spot us, and if we stay here, they might decide to look in here any minute. What’ll we do with him?”
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“Yes, what?” Jerry echoed. “If we don’t leave pretty quick, we’ll be nabbed. Sherlock heard everything, and we don’t dare let him go now. Even if we leave him here, he’ll work loose sooner or later, and that will be even worse for us.” He glared at the prostrate Sherlock, the whole cause of this hitch in their carefully laid plans. “I guess we’ll just have to tie him tight and get as far away as we can before he’s discovered.”

“You two are ready to travel, then?” asked Burk.

“We couldn’t get our blankets, because everybody in the tent is awake and up,” said Jerry, “but that’s all right. We can start right away, sure.” Both twins wore khaki hiking breeches, woolen stockings, flannel shirts, and high shoes, and each wore a heavy mackinaw that would protect him well from the cold.

Burk’s tone was serious. “And you’re still determined to run away from your friends and go with me? Don’t you think it would be wiser to let me start off alone, and let me take my chance without involving you in my trouble?”

“Dead sure. We go with you. Honest, we can help you a lot—we know all the trails around here, and we can hike fine. We’re with you to see this through to the finish!&r............