A commotion in the bushes informed Dan and Chips that the man who had thrown the stone now was retreating.
“You see!” Chips cried excitedly, joining his friend at the pool’s edge. “I told you the truth, didn’t I?”
“You sure did,” Dan muttered, scrambling to his feet. “If I hadn’t ducked, that stone would have clipped me on the back of the head. Come on, let’s nail him!”
Angry to think that the intruder had dared to risk injuring them by deliberately hurling a stone, the Cubs started after him.
Already the man was far away, moving with cat-like tread through the dense growth of vines and underbrush. Apparently familiar with the terrain, he slipped between the trees like a shadow.
“No use trying to follow,” Dan decided after they had gone only a few yards. “We’ve already missed our chance to see who he was.”
“And if we trail him a long distance from camp, he might try some of his tricks,” Chips added in an undertone. “Dan, that man’s face scared me. He looked downright ugly.”
“He did,” Dan agreed. “I only caught one glimpse of his face, but that was enough.”
“Ever see him before?”
“N-o-o,” Dan replied slowly. “For just a minute I thought—”