"I should say we could!" added Andy with emphasis.
"We happen to know just where they left the road and plunged into the brush; and perhaps we might even be of some assistance to you in following their trail, Chief; because, you understand, scouts are supposed to know more or less about such things. Woodcraft comes under the head of a scout's education. What d'ye say, fellows; shall we turn around right now and take these officers to the place where the leaning white birch hangs over the road?"
Every voice came in a decided affirmative. Even Tubby, who had been amusing himself while holding on to the sides of the wagon by figuring out just how long he must wait until he could hope to find himself seated at the supper table, heroically pushed aside all such temptations, and proved that he could rise to an occasion like a true scout.
"Then that's settled," said Rob, proud of his mates of the Eagle Patrol; "and if you will wait till we turn the horse around, Chief, you can have my seat here."
Merritt quickly backed the wagon into the side of the road, and faced the animal in the direction from which he had just come.
Meanwhile Rob and Andy had crawled over the rear of the seat and joined Tubby, who seemed pleased when he found that he was going to have company. The Chief and one of his men occupied the seat, along with the scout who was doing the driving; while the other officer contented himself with sitting so that his legs dangled over the tail board.
In this fashion, then, they started to retrace the ground the boys had so recently gone over. Of course the Chief had a dozen questions to ask in connection with the actions of the two men, as to what they said and what they did.
"The only words any of us heard them say were: 'Holy smoke, looky here, Con!'" Rob told him. "But they made up for it by doing some tall sprinting, lame man or not, that would have won them a prize at an athletic meet."
"Well, right there you've settled the thing and clinched it into the bargain," the tall police officer remarked with a satisfied chuckle; "because, don't you know, one of the rascals went by the name of Con Keating. And if the taller of the pair has a broken leg, why we ought to be able to run them down, and bag him, anyway, even if the other gives us the slip. But I'm hoping he'll stick to his pal until we can come up with them."
"We ought to be nearly back to where we picked up the wagon, now, hadn't we, Rob?" asked Merritt, who was straining his eyes trying to make out a white birch tree leaning over the road on the left.