SETTING A NEW TRAP
What Dick had caught sight of, and what had made him call to his
chums was the figure of the camp prowler partially dressed seated
on the edge of a pool of water fed by a forest brook where evidently
he had been bathing.
He had heard Dick's cry, however. These few instants of time
had been enough for the bather to jump up, snatch up the remainder
of his clothes and set off through the woods with the speed of
an antelope.
"Come on!" cheered Dick Prescott. "Full speed! We'll catch him.
He hasn't his shoes on, and his bare feet will soon go lame on
the twigs and stones that he'll step on in running. He can't
go far before we nab him."
"Spread out, fellows!" called Tom Reade. "Don't let the rascal
slip through our line. Dick, did you get a good look at him?"
"A fine peep," Prescott affirmed.
"Was he the thief?" Dave demanded.
"The very fellow!" Dick called back, for he was still in the lead.
"Don't talk any more," Reade warned his friends cautiously. "We'll
use up our wind."
As he ran Dick had an important secret on his mind. This was
not quite the time to impart it to his chums, however, so he held
his peace and did his best to save his wind.
Thus half a mile, at least, was quickly traversed. By this time
the high school boys, running as they had done, began to feel
winded.
"I can't go any further," gasped Hazelton, halting and leaning
against a tree.
"I'm in the same fix," muttered Danny Grin. as he, too, came
to a stop.
Reade, Darrin and Prescott ran on some distance farther, but at
last Dick called a brief signal for a halt.
"Where are you, friend?" bawled Dick, using his last wind in one
resolute vocal effort.
"Friend!" scoffed Reade.
"Of course the fellow will call and tell us where he is!" jeered
Darry.
"We won't hurt you---won't try to," Dick promised solemnly, again
sending his voice as far as he could make it travel. "All we
want to do is to talk to you---and we're friends honestly!"
"Say, what are you trying to give that thief?" protested Tom,
in an indignant undertone.
"Why are you telling him we're friends, and won't hurt him?" insisted
Dave Darrin.
"Because I mean just what I say," retorted Prescott, so crisply
that, for the moment, no one pressed him with any more questions.
Dick continued his calls, but received no response.
"By this time that fellow's a mile from here, and still running,"
mocked Dave.
"Or else he doubled on us, somewhere, and is hidden where he can
watch us, and laugh at us slyly," suggested Tom, as the three
high school boys turned to walk back to camp.
"If he's hiding on our trail, the thief had better not let me
catch him laughing at us!" growled Darry indignantly.
"Now, see here, both of you," Dick Prescott went on, earnestly.
"If we come across that fellow, don't either of you make a grab
at him. Just let me handle him---and I'll do it by talking alone.
We mustn't use our fists."
"You've changed your tune wonderfully within the last few minutes,"
muttered Dave.
"If I have," Dick answered impressively, "it's because I know
something now that I didn't know a little while ago."
"And what's that?" asked Tom eagerly.
"I'll tell all hands presently," Dick answered mysteriously.
"Oh, fudge!" growled Darry, under his breath, for he was fully
as curious as Tom Reade had been.
But Dick walked on as briskly as his almost winded condition would
permit. So they returned to the place where Harry and Dan awaited
them. To these two Dick repeated his instructions in the unlikely
case of their meeting the thief during their walk back to camp.
Nothing was seen of the fugitive, however, and the boys picked
up Greg Holmes close to the little swimming pool.
"I knew I could not catch up with you fellows," explained Holmes,
"so I took the girls back to camp and then put in my time prowling
about here and trying to locate the marrow bones that the sneak
stole."
"Dick doesn't want us to hurt the fellow, if we run across him,"
said Dave grimly.
"Why not?" asked Greg, opening his eyes very wide.
"I don't know," sighed Dave. "Ask Dick."
"I'll tell you all by and by," smiled Dick. "But now, let us
hurry back to camp. I want to see Mr. Colquitt just as soon
as I can."
"Bosh! A detective like Colquitt doesn't take up with such trifling
mysteries as missing marrow bones," jibed Reade. "Besides, we
can't afford to hire detectives."
"I don't want to hire a detective," Dick replied enigmatically,
"but I'd like about one minute's talk with Mr. Colquitt, and I
mean to have it. Don't let us dawdle on the way back, fellows."
So the six boys hurried on and soon came within sight of the camp.
"There they come!" cried Belle Meade. "Did you get the thief,
boys?"
"No," called Dave, "and it seems that the fellow is no longer
a thief, but a distinguished fellow citizen whom we must honor
at sight, like a bank draft."
"What are you talking about?" half frowned Belle.
"I haven't the least idea what I am talking about," Dave admitted
cheerfully. "You'll have to ask Dick for the map to my few remarks."
"Where are Mr. Colquitt and his party?" Dick demanded.
"Gone," replied Laura Bentley.
"How long ago?" Dick asked, paling somewhat and looking troubled.
"About two minutes ago," replied Dr. Bentley. "They excused themselves
and went away in their car."
"Can't you take me in your car, Doctor, and help me to pursue
them?" asked Prescott anxiously.
"Yes," agreed Dr. Bentley good-naturedly, "if you've any idea
which direction to take in looking for them. A mile to the east
three roads cross; half a mile to the west four roads cross.
Our friends may be on any one of the seven roads, or they may
have gone by a trail of their own."
Dick came to an abrupt stop, clenching his hands tightly.
"Isn't that luck for you?" he demanded ironically. Then, suddenly,
his face brightened.
"No matter," he said. "They can be reached through the Eagle
Hotel, in Gridley."
"Why should you want to reach them?" asked Laura curiously.
"Will you mind if I keep that to myself, for just a little while?"
asked Dick, so pleasantly that Laura took no offense at all.
"How about my pudding?" called Jim. "Anyone going to want any
of it?"
Did they? It was enjoyed to the full, and there was pudding left
over, to be heated for another meal.
"Now, you boys had better come with me, and I'll show you how
to keep some of the cooked meat over, in summer, without ice,"
proposed Mr. Ross.
"And my party must be getting along, or night will overtake us
here," declared Dr. Bentley, rising from what had been a most
hospitable board.
"Then fellows, please excuse me if I write a short note and ask
Dr. Bentley to mail it," urged Dick.
So Dave Darrin mustered the other chums, marching them off in
the wake of Mr. Ross, while Dick hastily scribbled a note, placed
it in an envelope, and addressed it to Alonzo Hibbert, or Thomas
Colquitt, Eagle Hotel, Gridley.
As Dick came out his other chums halted their labors long
enough to take leave of Dr. Bentley and his party. They escorted
the departing guests to their automobiles, and saw them start
away.
Such of the roast meat as was to be saved was packed in metal
pails, covered, and then the pails lowered into a brook, where
the cool water would to a certain extent take the place of ice.
Then Mr. Ross and his helpers removed the folding tables and other
loaned articles.
"Thank you, boys, for what you did to break the stampede of the
herd," said Mr. Ross, waving his hand after he had sprung up into
the saddle.
Once more Dick & Co. had their camp all to themselves.
"I wish we could have such visitors every day," cried Darry
enthusiastically.
"Yes," grinned Tom, "but how long would our canned goods hold
out? We'd have to be rich, fellows, to entertain so many people
every day, even if the meat end of the feast did come to us without
cost."
"We want to make the camp shipshape again," Dick remarked, looking
about. "There's a lot of refuse food to be burned. Greg, you
start a fire. Dan you gather up every scrap of food that must
be thrown away and burn it on said fire. Dave, you can set the
tent to rights. I'll take an axe and hustle after some firewood.
Dave, suppose you help me. Tom might put the camp to rights."
With the labor thus divided all hands set briskly to work. By
the time that all the tasks had been performed the boys were glad
to lie down on the grass and rest until it was time to prepare
a light supper. After that meal was over Dave asked:
"We're going to keep regular guard to-night, aren't we?"
"Yes," Dick answered. "We'll turn in at nine o'clock and keep
guard until six in the morning. That will be nine hours---an
hour and a half of guard duty for each fellow. Suppose we draw
lots to decide the order in which we shall take our tricks of
guard duty."
This was done. To Prescott fell the second tour, from ten-thirty
until midnight. Reade had the first tour.
At a few minutes after nine all was quiet in the camp. Five tired
high school boys were soon sound asleep, with Reade, hidden in
the deep shadows, watching outside.
It seemed to young Prescott that he had no more than dropped off
into slumber when Tom shook him by the shoulder.
"Half-past ten," whispered Reade, as Dick sat up. "Go out to
the wash basin and dash cold water into your eyes. That will
open 'em and freshen you up."
"Have you seen anything of the prowler?" whispered Dick, as he
got upon his feet.
"Not a sign," declared Tom.
"It would be too early for him to prowl about yet," whispered
Dick, as he passed out into the Summer night. "Good night, Tom."
Only a faint stirring of the light breeze in the tree tops, the
droning hum of night insects, and the occasional call of a night
bird---these were all the sounds that came to the ears of the
young camp guard.
Dick dashed the water into his eyes, then felt wonderfully wide
awake.
"If Mr. Prowler comes, he'll probably go for the canned vegetables
and the biscuit," Prescott decided. "He must already have more
meat than he can handle all day to-morrow---if it doesn't spoil."
So Dick posted himself where he could easily watch the approach
of any outsider toward the boxes that served as cupboards for
the canned supplies.
The time slipped away, until it was nearly midnight, as Prescott
knew from stepping into the tent and lighting a match briefly
for a swift glimpse at his watch.
As Dick came out of the tent he fancied he heard a distant step,
crackling on a broken twig.
"If there's anyone coming I'd better slip into the shadow of the
canvas," Prescott told himself, acting accordingly.
Presently the stealthy steps sounded nearer to the camp.
"Someone is coming, as sure as fate," Dick said to himself. "Shall
I rouse one or two of the other fellows? But they might alarm
the prowler. I'll handle him myself."