"Yes, he was chasing the Peeping Tom," Sandy agreed.
"I wish we knew the direction they took," Will mused. "The boy may get into serious trouble, chasing off into the forest along in the night. He should have told us of his discovery so one of us could have gone with him! We may be able to find him yet."
"Aw, he'll come back before long!" Tommy argued. "He can't make any headway out there in the underbrush, and the fellow who was here will probably run away from him before he gets three rods from the tent."
"I hope so!" answered Will.
"But what was that gink prowling around the tent for?" asked Sandy. "That must have been the same fellow we heard using the paddle a short time ago. If it is, he's mighty liberal with his bullets!"
"I'm anxious about that boy," Will broke in. "I wish he'd come back!"
"Yes, this isn't a very desirable country to be lost in in the night!" Tommy admitted. "He ought not to have gone away."
"What do you make of this gink prowling around our tent?" asked Sandy. "Do you think he's doing it out of curiosity, or because he has an inkling of what we're up here after?"
"Huh! How would any one away off up here know anything about the
Little Brass God?" demanded Tommy.
"Look here," Will argued. "The Little Brass God is stolen from this house on Drexel Boulevard. Enclosed in a cavity in the toy is a will disposing of several million dollars worth of property. The Little Brass God is finally sold to a pawn-broker, who in turn disposes of it to a trapper known to belong in the Hudson Bay district."