“Yes, we’ve got to make tracks,” agreed Bob. “It will be away after dark now when we get back to the camp. If we don’t hurry they will be organizing searching parties for us.”
With great care he placed the notebook back on the shelf, under the board, and then gazed searchingly around the cabin to make sure that no signs of their visit were left behind to warn the thieves. After assuring himself that everything was exactly as they had found it, he and Joe left the rude habitation, snapping the big padlock through the hasp.
“That’s a swell lock,” observed Joe, grinning. “It looks strong enough to discourage anybody, but Jimmy’s fish-hook licked it to a frazzle in no time.”
“That’s the way with a lot of padlocks,” said Bob, as the two started off in search of the others. “It would take dynamite to break them open, but they’re easy enough to pick.”
“If you know how, that is,” supplemented Joe, with a grin.
“Oh, that’s understood,” replied Bob. “It’s hard to do anything without the know-how.”
They soon picked up the two sentinels, who were greatly relieved to see them.
“I thought you were going to spend the night there,” grumbled Jimmy. “What happened? Did you both fall asleep in the middle of it?”
“You’re an ungrateful rascal, Doughnuts,” answered Joe. “Here Bob and I have worked like slaves for the last hour, while all you had to do was loaf around in the nice fresh air. Then instead of thanking us, you growl because we took so long.”
“Well, don’t get sore,” protested Jimmy. “I suppose we should all be so happy over this discovery that we shouldn’t mind anything. I’ll bet your father will be tickled to death, Herb.”