"Run back, Dave, and pilot Greg and Harry here, after they've staked the horse down," Prescott suggested. "We don't want to make too much noise, for our tormentors may yet be about somewhere."
"Hazy stumbled upon some of the blankets," Greg announced, when he and Harry joined Dave. "I don't believe any of our stuff has been carried off, Dick. It has just been scattered."
"Perhaps we'd better gather in all our camp stuff first, then,"
Dick decided. "We can't afford to lose any of our camp outfit."
Ten or fifteen minutes of searching, with the aid of the lantern, resulted in recovering all of their scattered possessions, even to the last of the cots, pillows and blankets.
"Now, let's make a sweep of the dark parts of the hotel grounds, and we may happen upon the rah-rahs, still chuckling over the fun they've had with us."
But the five boys had not gone far when they were stopped by a well-dressed young stranger of about twenty.
"Mr. Prescott?" asked the stranger.
"Yes," nodded Dick.
"I am one of the bell-boys at the hotel. When I went off duty I asked the manager's permission to change my uniform for citizen's clothing and watch those eight noisy fellows."
"The college boys?" asked Harry quickly.