“I won’t either,” his companion remarked. “But we’ll get back in time to snatch a few hours when we do get back.”
“Think we’ll learn anything from Farmer Crane?”
“I don’t know, but I hope so. This thing is getting serious. So far the boys haven’t been bad about it, although some of them are pretty scared at times, but I don’t know how long it will last. The uncertainty of it wears us down. We don’t know when somebody is going drop in and play a trick on us. I want to find out what it is all about.”
“If we find the person who is doing it,” said Buck, slowly, “we’ll surely tell him a thing or two!”
“If we ever catch him around the camp we’ll turn him over to the police in short order,” was Ted’s grim promise.
The farmer was glad to see them and he listened with interest to their story of the cutting of the tent ropes during the storm. It was felt that there was no need to tell him anything else, for fear that it would get abroad too much. The farmer was interested and excited.
“Somebody must have a grudge agin you fellers!” he cried. “Nobody’d be doing that for fun.”
“It must be somebody up this way, then,” said Ted. “Somebody doesn’t want us around. We thought it was that fellow you spoke to us about, the man who lives over in the log cabin, but he couldn’t have been the one, because we saw him a few minutes before all this happened.”
“Can’t think of no one else, ’less it could of been old Jerry Jackson, who lives over in Hogs’ Hollow,” mused the farmer.
“Where is Hogs’ Hollow?”