“Can you describe him?” Willie asked eagerly.
“He was heavy set, deeply tanned. Why, there he is now—leaving the hotel grounds.”
The waiter indicated the retreating figure of a stockily built man, dimly outlined against the dark shrubbery. The stranger moved swiftly, away from the terrace.
“He’s the one who snatched the parchment!” War exclaimed with instant conviction. “Let’s nail him!”
To the dismay of the waiter, the four Explorers leaped nimbly over the terrace railing onto the lawn below.
By this time the man they pursued was midway across the hotel grounds. Unaware that anyone followed, he paused beside a tall evergreen and bent over as if to place something at its base. Now that the stranger was beyond the reflection of the terrace lights, the Scouts could not discern his movements clearly.
“He’s pitching that manuscript!” Warwick whispered. “Let’s grab him quick!”
“We can circle in from behind,” Ken advised. “Be quiet and careful.”
“We might be making a mistake,” Jack advised uneasily, but the others did not heed.
Moving softly through the darkness, they suddenly surrounded the stranger. War grabbed him firmly by the arm.