"Yes, for both of us," agreed Paul. "I wonder what in the world his
game can be, anyhow?"
"We'll find out--if we ever get him," panted Russ. "Come on! This is
going to be 'some run,' as the poets say."
The man gained the highway, and raced along that for some distance.
Paul and Russ tried to take a short cut across the field to reach the
same road, but they got into a marshy place and sank in, nearly up to
their knees.
"He knew this was here!" cried Russ, as he drew himself out of a
sticky place.
"He evidently did, and avoided it," agreed his friend. "And we
blundered into it--worse luck!"
They had considerable difficulty in reaching the road, and by that
time the mysterious man was even further in advance. But they
pluckily kept to the chase.
"There he is!" cried Russ, as they came to a turn in the road, and
saw a straight stretch before them. "He hasn't gained so very much."
The man was running well, and there seemed to be no return of his
lameness.
The neighborhood was a lonely one, and there were no houses in sight.
Nor had the young men engaged in the chase met any persons since
starting out.
Doggedly they kept on.
"This would make a good picture film!" exclaimed Russ.
"It sure would," agreed Paul. "Only we haven't time to do it.
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