“And we can get it off quick if we’re needin’ to leave in a hurry,” Mills announced with satisfaction.

“That’s good,” Lang nodded.

“What you going to do with those bozos,” the red head demanded.

“Take ’em along,” came the short answer. “Untie their feet so they can walk.” Two men set to the job and in a few minutes the Flying Buddies were loose enough to stand but their arms were securely fastened and each rope had a length left dangling so that their captors could keep a firm grip on them.

“Now, step lively—” came the order.

“You got to give us a minute so the blood will circulate in our legs,” Bob protested. “They are like pin cushions.”

“Kick ’em around and they’ll be good enough,” Lang answered. “Move on, we’re going.”

With a helpless glance at each other the boys kicked and bent their knees to relieve the discomfort, and in a moment they were being marched behind the red headed fellow into the opening where Bob had stood when the butterfly “storm” started such a series of misfortunes. Caldwell had been in the place before and he knew that the soil was softer than out in the open, so now, on a pretense of limbering his stiffened limbs, he took very short steps, bringing each foot down hard so that his shoes left a heavy imprint. He was thankful that he had not worn soft soled shoes that morning and that his heels left a larger mark than those made by the feet of members of the gang.

Jim observed this activity on the part of his step-brother, and added to the clue in the trail by kicking bits of brush and sand with his toes. If by any possible bit of luck pilots from the British town found where the pair had been spending the morning almost anyone could be trusted to discover in which direction they had been taken. He managed to glance over his shoulders to see if the men coming behind him had thought of the possibility, but they were stepping quickly, for Red-head was leading at a lively pace.

“Go on, you don’t need to stop to kick all day. Your legs are good enough,” Lang snapped suddenly.

“Yeh, you’re holdin’ up traffic.”

“They feel better now,” Jim grinned cheerfully, but both boys continued to make a track whenever possible.

The way they were following was undoubtedly some path 

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