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."