aited somewhere till dark and proceeded to parts
unknown in an airplane. A more plausible inspiration was that they had
crossed the Hudson in a boat in order to baffle the authorities and
proceeded either southward to New York or northward on a New York
Central train.
The likeliest theory was that of Westy Martin of Roy's troop, that an
automobile with confederates had waited for the party at Catskill. That
would insure privacy for the balance of the journey.
The theory of one scout that the party had gone aboard a cabin cruiser
was tenable, and this means of hiding and confounding the searchers,
seemed likely to succeed. The general opinion was that ere long the
child would be forthcoming in response to a stupendous ransom. But this
means of recovering the little fellow did not appeal to the scouts.
Perhaps if Tom Slade, alias Sherlock Nobody Holmes, had accompanied the
group down to the riverside village, he would have learned or discovered
something which they missed. But Sherlock Nobody Holmes had other
business on hand that morning.
"Do you want to see it? Do you want to see it?" little Skinny had asked
him. "Do you want to see those tracks I found? Do you want to see me
follow them again? Do you want to see how I did it--do you?" And Tom had
given Skinny to understand that it was the dream of his life to see
those famous tracks, which had proved a path of glory to the golden
gates which opened into the exalted second-class of scouting.
"I'll show them to you! I'll show them to you!" Skinny had said eagerly.
"I'll show you where I began. Maybe if we wait till it rains they'll
get not to be there any more maybe."
So Tom went with him to the rock close by the lake shore where the path
to glory began, and starting here, they followed the tracks, now
becoming somewhat obscure, up into the woods.
"Before I started I made sure," Skinny panted, as he trotted proudly
along beside his famous companion. "The scouts they said you'd be too
busy to go with me, they did. But you ain't, are you?"
"That's what," said Tom.
"I bet you don't shake all over when Mr. Temple speaks to you, do you?"
"Not so you'd notice it."
"I bet he's got as much as a hundred dollars, hasn't he?"
"You said it."
"Maybe if I wasn't a-scared I'd ask him to look at the tracks too, hey?
First off I was a-scared to ask _you?_"
"Tracks are my middle name, Alf."
"Now I can prove I'm a second-class scout by my badge, can't I?"
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