CHAPTER VII.
SIGNALS ON THE MOUNTAIN.
Fremont saw that Frank was putting up a nervy battle with the man who had seized him, and was in the act of going to his assistance when Frank made a quick motion which seemed to bring every muscle in his body into action, and the Mexican shot into the air, landing, finally, on the back of his companion, and going to the floor with him.
The movement executed by the boy had been so lightning-like that none of the details had been noted, yet Fremont recognized it as a clever ju jitsu trick he had often seen the boys of the Black Bear Patrol practicing.

Frank laughed as the man seemed to spill off his round figure, and before the amazed and raging Mexican could get to his feet both boys were off like the wind, followed at a distance by policemen who had been called by the owner of the restaurant.
"We may as well circle back to the hotel now," Fremont said, as they brought up on a corner to rest and catch their breath.

"I'm anxious about Jimmie.

We should never have left him there alone." "If we go back to Jimmie without a cart-load of provisions," laughed Frank, "he'll call the police.

Besides, I'm starving.