Two shrill whistles split the air.
A moment more and the others gathered around him.
“What’s the matter?” they asked.
Dick, the last to appear, came up at that moment.
“I’ve found them,” he whispered.
“Where?” demanded the others.
“There is a little shack a short distance ahead,” Dick explained. “I could see smoke coming from the chimney. I feel sure that Jones, thinking he has given us the slip, has ordered a halt.”
“Well,” said Leonard, “what are we going to do about it? We can’t stand here all night.”
“The thing to do,” said Jenkins, “is to surround the place, and then close in on them. There are only two of them.”
“You’ll find there will only be one when it comes to a fight,” said Dick grimly. “My uncle Briggs won’t take a hand.”