Giraffe only waited for the word, and immediately backed the tramp to a tree that seemed suited for the purpose. Then he wound the cord around as many times as it would go, and tied it in hard knots. As the hobo still had his hands fastened behind him, and could not begin to get at the knots with his teeth, it looked as though he would have to stay there until the scouts were pleased to release him.
“Now what, Thad?” asked the energetic Giraffe, picking up his gun again.
“Go back the same way we came,” the other replied.
“Covering the ground, you mean, only this time we’ll look into every tree in the bargain; that’s the programme, is it, Thad?” asked Step Hen.
“Yes.”
Again the boys began to spread out, and in this manner was the captured tramp left behind. He realized that it was useless trying to influence them to change their minds, and so resigned himself to his fate.
Giraffe had secured the remains of the strip of bacon, and was dangling this from his left hand as he went along. Apparently he did not mean to take any chances of it getting away from him again; and of course Bob White noted his action with a nod of appreciation.
It was slow work now, because they had to investigate each likely tree that was approached. Some of these were of a type calculated to afford a refuge for anyone who wished to hide. Several times one of the boys, usually the spry Davy, was sent aloft to make sure the object of their search was not hiding there.
Thad began to wonder if anything could have happened at their camp. He remembered that they had left the two weakest scouts on guard, and this worried him.
Often as he pushed on, Thad had strained his hearing, dreading at the same time lest he catch sounds of serious import. But beyond the chatter of the crows that flew scolding ahead of them, and the scream of an early red-headed woodpecker tapping at a rotten tree trunk, there was no sound, unless he took into consideration the fretting of the water sweeping past outlying spurs of the island shore.