Hazelton offered to go with him, but Tom declined on the ground that he could get over ground faster without Harry.
It was an hour after dark when Reade returned that night, hot, tired, dusty and hungry. But he had found the correct address of the agency and the letter had started on its journey.
"Your supper is all ready," Dick announced.
"And I'm ready to meet any supper more than half way," Reade retorted.
"Just a minute, until I wash up."
The other five boys sat and chatted by the table while Tom ate.
"Dan, won't you throw a lot more wood on the fire?" asked Dick, as the meal came to a close. "We ought to have the camp better lighted than this."
Greg sprang to help Dalzell. Soon the flames leaped up, throwing their ruddy, cheerful glow over the camp and making dancing shadows beyond under the trees.
While they were still chatting over the day's doings, steps were heard, followed by the arrival in camp of two rough-looking, stern-faced men. Dave Darrin sprang to pick up a club.
"You boys haven't been doing anything wrong, have you?" questioned one of the men, with a trace of a smile.
"Of course not," Dick indignantly replied.