But to the alarm of the Cubs, the man did not give up the chase. Determined to recover the box, he kept after him.
Brad rounded up Jack and the other Cubs, heading for the road, by a shorter route. Anxiously, they looked about for Mr. Hatfield and police officers, but the highway was entirely deserted.
“Something’s delayed them,” Brad said anxiously, scribbling a note which he speared on a barb of the wire fence. “I hope he finds this. I’ve told him to look for us at Mrs. Jones’.”
The Cubs had reached the road a minute or two ahead of Fred. Soon they saw him rolling under a fence thirty yards farther down the highway.
“Good boy!” Dan exclaimed. “He still has the box!”
The Cubs raced to join Fred. Brad relieved him of the money container.
“We can’t stop to pick any daisies!” Fred panted. “That ape is right on my heels!”
“Let’s have it out with him!” Chips exclaimed. “We’re seven to one—lots o’ fun!”
“We’re heading for Mrs. Jones’ place!” Brad ordered firmly. “I think the fellow has a knife. We’re taking no chances on being carved.”
The Cubs loped off, leaving the tramp farther and farther behind.