On the following day Buck and Ted again left the camp in charge of the older boys and went for a hike over the mountains. They wanted to see if there was any trace of the flight and also to pay a visit to the hut in Hogs’ Hollow and question Jerry Jackson point blank.
“For all the fun we had out of them, they still have got to take the responsibility for firing the woods,” Ted said.
“Yes, but now we don’t know which one of ’em did it! The first thing we have to do is to find out who did what.”
“The quickest way to do that is to locate this Jerry Jackson and see what he knows about it all,” said Ted.
“Sure. I’m pretty sure that the ghost who crossed the creek was Jerry Jackson.”
“So am I, because he fled in the direction of the hollow. We’ll soon find out.”
But in this Ted was mistaken. When they reached the crude hut of the swamp dweller one glance inside the place showed them that he had abandoned his home, probably for good. Everything except the bare furniture was out of the shack and it looked bleak and forlorn.
“Skipped out!” cried Buck, looking around.
“Yes, gone completely, and I guess we’ll never find him again. I’ll bet he is making for new country right now. Well, that means that we are rid of one ghost and all we have to do is to keep a sharp watch out for the other.”
There was nothing more to be learned at the shack in Hogs’ Hollow, so the two boys left the place and returned to the top of the mountain. Here they wandered along looking for any signs which might be clues to the doings of the past few weeks, and they passed above and beyond the camp. They kept up their exploration until the sun began to set and dusk crept in from the east.