The supplies that had been left on the bridge were hastily loaded into the auto, and the party once more took their seats. Lathrop had by this time quite recovered, and, in reply to all the encomiums heaped on him by the others, could only reply:

“That’s all right.”

With Billy Barnes at the wheel the auto chugged off once more on its errand of rescue.

Suddenly, leading up a woodland track to their right, Billy Barnes spied auto tracks.

“That must be Barr and his crowd,” shouted Billy, turning the auto up the track that converged from the main road at this point.

Rapidly and almost silently the auto made its way over the beds of pine needles that covered the rough roadway. With the reduced speed at which they were proceeding the approach of the machine could have been hardly audible to a strange group onto which the auto party a second later emerged.

The persons composing it consisted of Luther Barr and the men to whom Billy had referred as composing “his gang,” namely, Hank Higgins, Noggy Wilkes, Fred Reade, the red-bearded aviator, and Slade. As the auto rolled up behind them so silently that none of them apparently knew of its approach, Barr was grinning triumphantly at Frank and Harry Chester, whose aeroplane stood at one side of the clearing.

“I thought we’d lure you down here by displaying a flag,” he sneered. “I suppose you thought it was your own party. Well, now, you have found out your mistake.”

“Our friends will soon be here in reply to our message,” said Frank, “and they will not allow you to harm us.”

“Oh, I suppose you think they could answer that wireless message of yours,” sneered old Barr. “Well, they couldn’t, because we’d fixed it so that they couldn’t. Do you think I’d have let you send out a message if I thought they could have got here? I just fooled you for fun.”

“What have you done with them?” demanded Frank.

“Oh, only taken a few planks out of the bridge across the canyon so that they couldn’t get across. We hold the cards now, so you might as well tell us where Bart Witherbee intends to claim his mine. If you won’t, we shall see that you are put somewhere where you will get over your stubbornness.”

“Oh, you will, will you?” exclaimed Bart Witherbee, suddenly stepping forward. “Not yet, Mr. Barr, and now I think as we have the drop on you, you and your friends had better vamoose—git out—run along—fade away.”

“What are you doing here,” stammered Reade, turning round and seeing the boys in their auto, “I thought——”

“Yes,” cried Billy, “you thought you’d fixed the bridge so as we couldn’t get across—well, you hadn’t; so now get along and be on your way before we summon law officers and have you placed under arrest.”

“Come on, let’s get out,” said Hank Higgins sullenly, “the kids certainly seem to have it on us this time.”

Casting glances full of malevolence at the boys, but still not daring to say anything, Barr and his companions climbed into their machines and silently made off. To their satisfaction the boys saw in the tonneau of the rear machine a lot of boxes which they knew must contain sections of the dismantled Slade aeroplane. The Despatch party therefore had not yet been able to effect repairs, which accounted for their desperate anxiety to detain the boys at any cost.

“However, did they come to lure you down here?” asked Billy as soon as the two autos with their rascally owners had departed.

“Why, we saw a signal waving from this opening in the woods, and thought it was you showing us where there was a good landing place. We soon found out our mistake, however,” answered Frank.

“Say, boys,” observed Bart suddenly, after he had earnestly scanned the sky for awhile, “we’d better be getting on. I believe we are going to have one of those storms that we get up in these hills every once in a while.”

“Are they very bad?” asked Billy.

“Bad!” echoed the miner, “why, boy, ef you’re wearing all your own hair arter one of ’em you’re lucky.”

“Well, we can’t fly any further to-day,” announced Frank.

“Why not?” demanded the others.

“One of our rudder wires got snapped as we came down here. It was a narrow place to land in at best.”

“How are we going to get the aeroplane up the trail?” demanded Bart.

“Tow it,” was the quiet response.

“Tow it. How in the name of sea-sick catamounts air we goin’ ter do that?” demanded Bart.

“Easy,” laughed the boy; “just hitch a rope to it, attach it to the auto and it will tow right along on its wheels.”

“Yes, but the wings are too wide to pass along this narrow trail,” objected Bart.

“We can unbolt them and pack them in the auto. Some of us will have to walk, but that will be no great hardship for a short distance.”

“Say, Frank, you’re a genius. Come on, boys, git busy with them monkey wrenches and we’ll be in Calabazos to-night. Then ho—for the lost mine.”

As Frank had anticipated, it was not a lengthy work to detach the wings of the Golden Eagle, thanks to their simple construction, and soon the cavalcade was moving forward up the mountain side with the framework of the aeroplane in tow. Stripped of her planes, she looked not unlike a butterfly from which the wings have been plucked, but the boys did not mind appearances in the saving of time they effected.

“Say, Frank, though,” said Billy suddenly, as they tramped along in the rear of the auto which Lathrop was driving, “isn’t this breaking the rules of the flight? Are you allowed to tow your air craft?”

Frank drew a little book from his pocket.

“In cases of absolute necessity owners and fliers of contesting craft may accept a tow, provided they do not actually load their machines on railroad trains or other means of transportation,” he read. “This shall be understood not to apply to circumstances other than where an aviator finds it impossible to make an ascent from his landing place.”

“I guess we are within the rules all right,” said Harry.

“I think so. Of course we shall have to make out a written explanation of the case,” rejoined Frank, “but it would have been impossible for us to rise from that wood clump into which Luther Barr lured us.”

“Say, boy, I’m afraid we’re in for it,” suddenly exclaimed Bart Witherbee.

“What?” asked Frank.

“Why, the storm I said was coming up. She’s going to be a rip-snorter, or my name’s not Bart Witherbee.”

As he spoke there came a low moaning sound in the tree-tops, and the sky began to be overcast with dark storm clouds. The dust on the road, too, began to be puffed into little whirlwinds before the breath of the oncoming storm.

Presently a few great drops of rain fell, coming with heavy splashes on the dry road, and falling with resounding splashes on the planes packed on top of the auto.

“Here she comes, boys; we’ve got to seek shelter some place,” warned the miner.

They looked about them in vain, when all at once, up the hillside to the right of the road, they became aware of a trail leading to a ruinous-looking hut that had evidently at one time been occupied by a miner.

“We’ll take shelter there, boys,” exclaimed Bart, pointing to it. “I’ll bet the roof leaks like a sieve, but it’s better than the open at that.”

Hastily the boys pulled waterproof tarpaulins, provided for such a purpose, over the framework of the aeroplane and over the auto.

“There, not a drop of water will touch them, anyhow,” announced Frank, as these preparations to fight the storm were concluded. “Come on, now, for the hut.”

They ran up the hillside as fast as they could, for by this time the rain was coming down in a torrential downpour, and the lightning flashes were ripping the sky in every direction. The artillery of the storm rattled awe-inspiringly. Some of the thunder claps seemed to shake the very ground upon which they stood.

As they ran Bart uttered an exclamation of surprise.

“Why, boys,” he cried, “this yere trail ain’t so far from my mine. It’s only under that next ridge there. If a man dug a tunnel he could get there dry shod.”

At the time they paid no attention to Bart’s words, in such haste were they to get into the hut. They were to recollect them afterward, though, and comment on their strange significance.

Billy was the first to reach the deserted hut. With a whoop he pushed in the crazy door, but the next minute he staggered back with a cry of surprise and a scared look on his face.

“There’s someone in there,” he cried.