"We must go to Mr. Stanlock's rescue," Ernie replied. "There is no
telling what those rascals are plotting. They may kill him if we don't
get there in time to prevent it."
"It's a long hike, and we may not be able to get there in time," Paul
Hunter warned.
"That means we've got to move mighty fast," Ernie said. "Boys, get
your guns and a supply of shells. I hope we won't have to use them,
but we'd better be well prepared. We're going to be late getting back,
so you may as well grab some bread and dried beef and anything else
you can find in a jiffy to eat on the way. We've got to start in three
minutes. Now everybody hustle.
"Paul, you and Jerry had better run home and stay there till morning,"
Ernie added, turning to his brother. Jerry was scarcely any larger
than Paul, although the latter was a year younger. Ernie felt a
slightly nervous responsibility for the safety of the "twin babies of
the bunch," as some one had already referred to them in the course of
the day. Jerry, who, like Paul, was an extremely likable fellow,
resented being called the baby of the patrol, a term sometimes applied
to him when the Scouts were dealing in jocular personalities.
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