“They could do that. Perhaps they took the train to Rudd’s Landing, or maybe they came direct to Bagsville instead of up the river. That would give them plenty of time to settle down here before finding our camp.”
“Who is these air boys yeou be talkin’ about?” put in one of the farmers, impatiently.
In a few words Harry explained about the bully of the town and his friends. The farmers listened to as much as they wished to hear, and then one of them suddenly cut him short.
“Ain’t no more time tew talk; let’s go arfter ’em,” he said. “Come on!”
He grabbed his gun and made off through the snow, and one after another the boys and men followed, only one farmer and Pickles remaining behind, to watch the horses and the traps.
The pursuing party were soon at the rocks behind which Pete Sully had been seen. Here not only one set of tracks, but three, were visible, showing that the trio were together.
The tracks led in a zigzag fashion through the woods, testifying to the fact that in their alarm and fright the plunderers had dashed away without knowing what direction to pursue. Evidently, they had in some manner learned what had happened, and were completely demoralized by their discovery.
After leaving the woods, the tracks led across a deep ravine, and then down to a large pond at the lower end of which was a creek, which the farmers said emptied into Rock Island Lake. Here on the clear ice the trail was lost in the darkness, and could not be found again.
“No use to hunt further,” said one of the farmers. “Let us go back.”
The boys were willing, and the return to the brush near the lean-to was at once begun. It was now quite dark, and the farmers were in a hurry to get home.