“Woodcraft,” said Tubby.
“Signaling,” put in Merritt.
“I’ve got a field wireless apparatus I’d like to try out,” put in Hiram, his voice a-quiver with eagerness.
“Well, the first thing to be done is to recover that cipher,” said the major; “at present all we know of it is that it is in the hands of two rascals.”
“In the employ of another rascal, Stonington Hunt,” put in Rob.
“Well, we can do nothing more to-night,” said the major.
“No. We were so interested in your story that I think none of us noticed how the time flew by,” said Mr. Blake, and Mrs. Blake, entering just then, announced that there was supper ready for the party in the dining-room. Tubby’s eyes glittered at this news.
Soon after the sandwiches, cakes and lemonade had been disposed of, the Boy Scouts set out for home, agreeing to meet the major next morning after breakfast.
They had not gone many steps from the house when Tubby stopped as suddenly as if he had been shot.
“Gingersnaps!” he exclaimed. “I’ve just thought of something.”