“We’ll be back in time for supper, mother,” Frank promised. “We’re just going to follow the highway along the railroad. After that we may cut across country to Chet’s place, and then home.”

“Take care of yourself,” she warned. “No speeding.”

“We’ll be careful,” they promised, as Joe stowed the lunch basket on the carrier of his machine. Then, with a sputtering roar, the motorcycles sped out along the driveway and soon the boys were on the concrete highway leading out of the city.

In a short time they had reached the outskirts of Bayport, and then they turned west on to the State highway that ran parallel to the railway tracks. It was a bright, sunny spring morning, and the highway was not congested with traffic.