Dick gave the deputy a grateful look, and said he had some other business to transact, and so would hop off and do that, and would be back at the little police station in plenty of time to join the capturing party.
“Take your time. We won’t gather here till about ten o’clock, and then we can slip around and take cover near the store and await the coming of the outfit. Don’t let anyone see you coming here, if you can help it, tonight,” answered the sheriff.
Dick hopped out and started for the lean-to in the woods. The business that he wanted to transact was to see if the camera trap had been sprung, and if so to bring the film back to town with him and develop it before it was time to join the sheriff’s party.
It was a hiking afternoon for Dick, and he thought that he must have walked nearly a score of miles that day in the hot sun. But Dick could put on speed when the occasion demanded it, and this was certainly such an occasion.
He glanced at the sky from time to time. It was still bright and cloudless, and he indulged in several little chuckles as he thought of the gentle chaffing that he would give Aunt Abbie about her “cat barometer” that evening.
He retrieved his rifle at Denton’s and then at a half trot made for the woods.
It was cooler walking under the trees, and he kept up a swift pace, watching carefully as he walked, so that he would not be surprised by any one.
He did not meet a person on his way to the lean-to, and as he approached the brush shack, redoubled his vigilance. There was no sign of anyone around, and keeping his rifle in a handy position, he made his way to the place they called home while in the woods.
Dick stepped over the trap carefully, for in the event that no one had been there, he did not want to have a snap of himself taken, and thereby necessitate some minutes in resetting the trap.
He went directly to the bush screen, and looked.