"All right. You go ahead," said Jack. "I'll form a rear guard--d'ye see?
Then you can't be surprised."
"That's a good idea," said Harry. "There, see that big tree, that blasted
one over there? I marked that. The cache is in a straight line, almost,
from that, where the ground dips a little. There's a clump of bushes."
"There's someone there, too," said Jack. "He's tugging at a cycle, as if he
were trying to get ready to start it."
"That'll be Dick, then," said Harry, greatly relieved. "All right--I'll go
ahead!"
He went on then, and soon he, too, saw Dick busy with the motorcycle.
"Won't he be glad to see me, though?" he thought. "Poor old Dick! I bet
he's had a hard time."
Then he called, softly. And Dick turned. But--it was not Dick. It was
Ernest Graves!
CHAPTER IX
AN UNEXPECTED BLOW
For a moment it would have been hard to say which of them was more
completely staggered and amazed.
"What are you doing here?" Harry gasped, finally.
And then, all at once, it came over him that it did not matter what Ernest
answered; that there could be no reasonable and good explanation for what
he had caught Graves doing.
"You sneak!" he cried. "What are you doing here--spying on us?"
He sprang forward, and Graves, with a snarling cry of anger, lunged to meet
him.
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