“Whew!” whistled Uncle Tod. “It came—sooner than I expected,” and then, gathering up the parts of the mysterious message—the string, cabbage leaf, stone and bullet, he hurried into the house.
CHAPTER II
UNCLE TOD IS MISSING
Rick and Chot gazed curiously at one another, and even Ruddy seemed a bit puzzled by the strange behavior of Uncle Tod. The three friends—for surely the dog was in that class—looked at the retreating form of the man.
“What do you know about that?” asked Chot. “Do you s’pose—”
“I don’t know what to suppose,” answered Rick, not giving his chum a chance to completely form his question. “It’s mighty queer. Maybe we’d better—”
But he, in turn, was interrupted by shouts just beyond the same rear fence over which the mysterious message had been tossed.
“Ho, Rick!” called the voices of several boys. “Come on for a swim, Rick!”
Ruddy barked his answer—he was always ready for fun.
“Hey, Whistle Breeches!” shouted Chot, recognizing the tones of a lad who had been given this nickname because, once upon a time, he wore corduroy trousers, the ribbed cloth producing a peculiar whistling sound as the boy’s legs rubbed together.
“Oh, you Chot!” came the answering hail. “Let’s go swimming!”