Boy Scouts in Belgium;

or,

Under Fire in Flanders

CHAPTER I. A Mysterious Hot Box.

CHAPTER I.

A Mysterious Hot Box.

On a warm day in October three motorcyclists were speeding over Long Island roads toward New York City. One of the group was apparently setting the pace for his fellows. He was at least a hundred yards in the lead. With mufflers deadening perfectly the clamor of their engines the riders sped across the country like fleeting ghosts with never a sound to indicate their presence.

All three riders appeared to be about eighteen years old and were dressed in the well-known khaki uniform of the Boy Scouts of America. Could one have examined closely the badges upon their sleeves he would have discovered that two of the boys were members of the Black Bear Patrol of New York City. The third member of the group, a lad [Pg 8]slightly smaller in stature than his comrades and with a very freckled face and very red hair, was a member of the Wolf Patrol of the same city. A Black Bear was on the leading machine that seemed to be making the pace.

[Pg 8]

Approaching the outskirts of a village the leader's speed perceptibly slackened and his machine veered abruptly from side to side of the roadway. He seemed in imminent peril of dashing into a nearby row of telephone poles. Instantly the others slackened speed.

"What's up, Harry?" inquired he of the red hair.

"Crossing cop, maybe!"

"Nix on the cop!"

"When Jack's in trouble, slow up!"

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