"That's the reason I think we'll get ahead of these fellows," said Chot. "Come on, Rick."
The boy's shoes were fairly clean now, and, as his chums had remarked, they would dry and be cleaned more as he ran through the grass. Once again the chase was taken up. By keeping to the path, and by leaping from hummock to hummock, Rick managed to avoid sinking down in any more bog holes. Soon the three chums came out on the solid road.
Rick looked up and down, hoping to get a sight of the junk wagon in which, he felt sure, was his dog Ruddy, enticed away by the old sailor—the tramp sailor.
Chot began looking down in the dust of the highway, walking back and forth his eyes close to the ground.
"What you doing?" demanded Rick, as he watched his friend. "Did you lose something?"
"I'm looking for wagon tracks," answered Chot.
"Wagon tracks?" cried Rick and Tom together.
"Yes," went on Chot, "but I can't make out whether the junk wagon has been along here or not. There's too many other tracks, and marks of auto tires, besides."
"Do you really think you can tell if the junk wagon has been along here?" asked Rick.
"Well, I thought maybe I could," answered Chot. "You see I belong to the Boy Scouts," he went on, "and we're learning how to tell marks on the ground. Course animal marks, like the paws of a dog, are easier to tell than wagon tracks. But if there was smooth ground here, instead of a lot of dust that other wagons and autos had run over, maybe I could tell if the junk wagon had been along. I could for sure if I knew what kind of marks the tires made."