"Thin, hard-lookin' guy with a hook nose."
"We haven't seen any one like that."
"He was prowling around here a little while ago," said the tramp, in a more friendly tone. "I guess you boys are all right. If we let you go will you promise not to run and tell the police?"
"Oh, sure!" piped Chet, in vast relief.
"We're not doin' any harm here. We're just three poor chaps that's out of work and we're on our way to Bayport to look for a job," whined one of the others. "You wouldn't set the police on us, would you?"
"It's none of our business who you are or what you're doing," Frank assured them. "We won't mention seeing you."
"All right, then." His captor released his grip on Frank's shoulder. "Beat it away from here and don't bother us again."
The two boys lost no time in making their way out of that vicinity. The three tramps stood watching until they disappeared beyond the trees at the bend in the trail, then went back to their fire.
Some distance away, Frank and Chet came upon the other boys, who had halted and were devising ways and means of rescue.
"Golly!" said Joe, "we thought you were in for it. We were just going to toss up and see who would go back to find out what had happened to you."