cation with me ever since. I'm glad I called up. Now we'll get right back to Shopton, and see what we can do. This is the limit! Peters and his crowd will be kidnaping us, next."
"That's right," agreed Ned.
He and Tom were soon off again, speeding in the auto toward Shopton. But the roads were bad, after a heavy rain, and they did not make fast time.
The coming of dusk found them with more than thirty miles to go. They were in an almost deserted section of the country when suddenly, as they were running slowly up a hill, there was a sudden crack, the auto gave a lurch to one side of the roadway and then settled heavily. Tom clapped on both brakes quickly, and gave a cry of dismay.
"Broken front axle!" he said. "We're dished, Ned!"
They got out, being no more harmed than by the jolting. The car was out of commission. The two chums looked around. Except for a lonely house, that bore every mark of being deserted, not a dwelling was in sight where they might ask for aid or shelter.
And, as they looked, from that lonely house came a strange cry—a cry as though for help!
