“Lie still, fellows!” Brad ordered. “I don’t think he sees us.”
“What’s he going to do next?” Dan speculated uneasily.
The tramp stretched himself, and wandering down to the stream, washed his face. After taking a drink, he re-entered the shack.
“I sure hope he stays there,” Chips whispered.
The wish was a futile one. A minute or two later, the tramp reappeared, carrying a few cooking utensils.
Turning his back to the Cubs, he followed the curve of the creek and vanished from sight.
“I don’t think so,” Jack Phillips answered. “I’ve seen him cook his food in a rock shelter about a hundred yards down-stream. He doesn’t dare have a fire inside the shack, or he’d likely burn it down.”
“All the same it’s our job to keep him in sight until the police get here,” Brad said. “Jack, suppose you and Fred follow and find out where he goes. Report back as soon as you can.”
“Sure!” agreed Jack, liking the assignment. “We won’t let him get away.”
“If he should lead you a chase, mark the trail,” the Den Chief advised. “Fred knows how to do it so the Cubs can follow.”
Fred and Jack hastened off in pursuit of the tramp. However, it seemed they scarcely had disappeared until they returned again, breathless from hurrying.
“Not a thing,” Jack reassured him. “It’s just as I thought. The tramp is cooking his meal. He’ll be at it a half hour at least.”
“All the same, we ought to keep him in sight,” Brad decided. “You two hustle back and watch. If he starts this way, give some sort of signal.”
“What’ll it be?” Fred asked. “I know! I’ll whistle like a whippoorwill.”
“Are there any of ’em in the woods at this time of year?”
“Oh, the tramp won’t notice,” Fred said. “I could give my siren whistle.”
“No, the whippoorwill signal will be better,” Brad decided quickly. “That siren of yours would send him hot-footing in the opposite direction. But don’t use any signal unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
No sooner had the two gone off, than Chips again urged that the Cubs investigate the shack.
“Jack said the tramp will be tied up for a half hour,” he argued. “This is our chance! We can get in there and find the money!”
“Sure, Mr. Hatfield would want us to do it!” Midge backed him up.
“Oh, you’re too conservative,” Chips said hotly. “I’m not afraid!”