"It's a well-hidden place," declared Dick, "and I don't so much wonder that we didn't find it before. But now we'll go back to camp."
"And what next?"
"I don't know," Prescott confessed, looking puzzled. "We really haven't any right to pounce on the man unless we catch him doing something. Anyone has a right to lead the wild life in the woods, unless he's a criminal or a lunatic."
"My vote is that our chap is a lunatic," suggested Darry.
"If he is, then he's a harmless one, anyway. Let's go back, by a roundabout way, and tell the fellows."
"There are four pin-heads in this camp," was Tom Reade's decision, when he heard the report brought back by the others. "Only two of us have brains enough to see anything that's written right on the face of the earth."
"But what are we going to do about our man?" asked Greg.
"That's what we must figure out," Dick replied. "I don't see that we can do anything except send word to the authorities down in the village, and let them act as they see fit."
"What authorities are there in the village?" Dave inquired.
"I don't know. That we'll have to find out. We——-"