Weighted with the still glittering spoils of their sport, Frank and Phil hurried through the pines to the Loon. They had realized that a new start would not be easy. Now they wondered if they could make it at all. Frank shook his head.

“We ain’t goin’ to get up much speed runnin’ through this grass,” he suggested as he kicked his foot into the luxuriant tangle.

“It’s gettin’ longer all the time,” laughed Phil depositing the fish in the cabin. “Let’s get busy.”

Taking their places in the car the boys, after a careful examination, turned on the power. The propellers fell to work and the trembling ship, heaving like a chained monster, strove to free itself. But the force of the propellers only pushed in the frame until, fearful of breaking it, the engine was shut off.

[214]

“Let’s pull her forward a bit,” suggested Phil. “Maybe she’s worn a rut here.”

The boys got out and pushed the ship forward a few yards. And before doing it they beat down the grass as well as they could into three paths for the wheels.

The Loon this time ran forward a few yards and then, one of the landing wheels sinking in softer ground the monoplane whirled in that direction almost at right angles, Frank stopping his engine just in time to prevent his right plane from turning plowshare.

“That’s the right idea,” insisted Frank, “only we didn’t go far enough. Let’s tramp down a longer road.”

This was done with considerable effort and another trial made after each irregularity had been smoothed to the best of the boys’ ability. The monoplane sprang forward but again it touched in the grass at the end of the improvised roadway and the strain on the plane truss became alarmingly apparent. Twice more the start was attempted on an enlarged runway, and each time the propellers were shut off just in time to prevent an accident. At half past[215] six the two boys, hot and dusty, their shoes and clothing still wet and heavy from crawling on the dusty ground, stopped for rest in half despair.

“I got it,” exclaimed Phil suddenly.

“We’ve both got it where we can’t get it out,” answered Frank, rubbing his stiffened fingers.

“The camp ain’t far from here,” went on Phil. “We know that.”

“Somewhere over that hill,” answered Frank pointing to the western edge of the grass meadow.

“And it’s at the mouth of the creek,” said Phil. “We could get to the camp by following the Fording down to the Elk.”

“That’s exactly what we’d do if we could get a start,” was Frank’s reply.

“It’s exactly what I can do without a start,” persisted Phil. “Get aboard. You can get away like a top with a little help. I’ll give you the shove that will do the trick at the right moment.”

“You—” began Frank.

“Then I’ll walk to camp. It can’t be far.”

[216]

“You’re crazy,” exclaimed Frank.

“We’re dumb-heads for not thinkin’ about it before,” went on Phil. “It’s supper time and that mess of trout is spoilin’. I’ll see your camp fire as soon as I get through the river channel, even if it is dark.”

“I’ll draw cuts to see who does it.”

“Gimme that flash light,” went on Phil. “If I ain’t there by dark, send ‘Grizzly’ Hosmer up the creek for me. I’ll flash a light every five minutes after dark.”

“An’ stick to the river!” urged Frank.

“You’re off,” laughed Phil sticking the electric flash light in his pocket. “But say,” he added, “let me take your automatic—I may meet a grizzly on the hill.”

Handing Phil his new revolver Frank hesitatingly took his place in the cabin. In another moment the Loon made another spurt and Phil, sprinting behind, successfully gave it the last push that cleared the gluelike grass.

“Good-bye,” yelled Phil. There was a wave of Frank’s hand and the silver planes of the airship tilted as the monoplane veered to the west. Long before the birdlike craft had disappeared[217] over the Hog Back range, Phil was trudging stoutly toward the Fording.

Reaching the summit of the big hill, Frank expected to see a valley and some sign of the camp. Instead, he saw only an expanse of lodge-pole pine trees and a second and lower range about four miles distant. He immediately turned north until he was over the river and then followed its course until the stream made its way through a rift in the second range. For a better view he had gone up to one thousand feet. From the summit of the second range he easily made out the Elk River and then, still following the Fording, was soon relieved to catch sight of their junction.

Ten minutes after he started and having covered seven miles, as he estimated, the Loon shot southward to a landing much like the deceitful one in Grass Meadow. There was much revolver firing and yelling as the Loon made a spiral drop. But Frank’s face and the absence of Phil stopped the jollification. The four camp tents had been pitched, the wagons parked and Mr. Mackworth and his guests were seated in comfortable camp chairs watching Jake’s supper[218] preparations when Frank reached the camp. But the lone aviator gave these things little attention.

It had seemed a simple enough thing for Phil to follow the river to camp. But as Frank traced its winding course and saw its rocky brier-lined shore up to the very edge of which the thick pine trees crowded, he realized that his chum had no easy task before him. Certainly it would be dark long before Phil could cover the seven miles, and that meant feeling his way through a tangled forest without even a trail.

Frank told his story in a frightened, excited manner.

“He can’t make two mile an hour follerin’ the river,” volunteered “Grizzly” Hosmer.

“Why didn’t he come over the Hog Back?” asked Skinner. “He’d saved a lot.”

“Regrets won’t mend matters,” interrupted Mr. Mackworth soberly. “‘Grizzly,’” he added, “you know the country best. Isn’t there a trail from here through the woods to the hill?”

“A plain one,” was Hosmer’s response.

[219]

“Well, you start at once with an extra horse and hurry to Hog Back Cut. You can probably get there before the boy does, as he has four miles to cover in that valley over there. Bring him home by the trail.”

In a few minutes Hosmer had saddled and was off. Both Sam Skinner and Frank wanted to join him but Mr. Mackworth thought the guide would travel quicker alone. Frank made a perfunctory examination of the camp and then remembered his fish.

The moment Mr. Mackworth saw them he demanded a d............