“Don’t do that!”
“Why not?” Teddy asked.
“Because,” answered the fat boy, “if you pull in all the rope you won’t be able to see where it ends. Leave it lying there and we can trail it to the far end and see who lassoed you.”
“I don’t believe you can,” said Dick. “I think whoever threw that lasso ran away right after they tossed it at you, Teddy. We won’t find anyone at the other end of this rope. But Fatty’s idea is a good one. We’ll follow the rope and see.”
“I used to belong to the Boy Scouts where I lived before we came here,” Fatty said a bit proudly. “I’m going to join again if there’s a troop here.”
“Sure there is,” Teddy said. “We all belong.”
Just as Dick had predicted, there was no one at the end of the lasso when the boys had trailed it to the bushes. There it lay, stretched out like a hempen snake.
“Take it easy now, fellows,” cautioned Teddy as his chums crowded around the end of the rope.
“Why?” asked Joe. “Do you think the lasso man is hiding around here?”
“No, I think he’s far enough away by this time,” Teddy replied. “But I was going to see if I could find his footprints. Maybe we could trace him that way.”