"That's just the point. He has gotten so far away that we can't hear him crashing through the undergrowth."
"I'm afraid we won't catch up with him again to-day," sighed Dick.
"The folks who are trying to catch Amos Garwood are foolish in sending detectives to look for him," muttered Dave. "They ought to hire professional sprinters."
Away at their rear sounded a fainter whoop.
"Answer the fellows, Dave," urged Prescott.
"I will—-when I get some wind," muttered Darrin.
Three times more Greg and his fellows whooped before Dick could get together enough wind to make his voice travel. Greg repeated the hail, and again Dick answered. After a few minutes the other Grammar School boys caught up with Dick and his friend, who told to the new-comers the story of the encounter with Amos Garwood.
"Get away from you again?" asked Tom blankly.
"I don't believe we'll ever chase that streak of light again," growled Dave. "I don't feel as though I'd ever be able to run again. Amos Garwood can walk faster than any of us can run."
"The most that we can do at present," Prescott concluded, will be to notify Lawyer Ripley or Chief Coy that we've seen the Garwood flyer again."