“’Sh!” he sibilated. “Perhaps some of you fellows observed that I was not out sliding last night. I struck a trail. Having noticed that one Rodney Grant and his two boon companions were not to be discovered around the village evenings, my astute mind led me to the deduction that they must be up to something of a dark and secret nature. Last night, from a place of secure cover, I watched with the patience of a redskin, and eventually I was well rewarded for so doing. I saw the miscreants meet secretly on High Street, near the foot of the path which leads to the home of Priscilla Kent. Under cover of darkness the beforesaid miscreants set forth to the westward, totally unaware that I was shadowing them. Of course, as there was no immediate cover for concealment, my task was extremely difficult, and when they reached the Barville road I lost them.”
“Is that all you’ve got to tell us?” asked Chub Tuttle, cracking a peanut. “I thought you’d caught them robbing a hen-roost or breaking into a bank.”
“I lost them for the time being,” continued Sleuth, undisturbed; “but, after meditating at the corner for some time, I was led to the deduction that they had gone north toward Turkey Hill, as it was not probable they would have chosen that roundabout course to turn the other way.”
“Great head, Sleuth,” complimented Cooper.
“They must have made haste,” said Piper; “for, though I hustled along all the way to the hill, my searching eyes failed to discover even a glimpse of them. Nevertheless, I was not baffled. Further meditation led me to decide that there could be only one destination for the aforesaid miscreants. It was awful dark in the woods over back of the hill, but my iron nerve remained unshaken. Setting my teeth firmly, I followed the course of Silver Brook all the way up to the swamp, into the vastness of which I boldly penetrated.”
“Daring deed,” murmured Cooper, in mock admiration.
“By this time,” pursued Piper, unmindful of the interruption, “my keen intellect was satisfied beyond reasonable doubt that the destination of that trio of night prowlers was Lander’s old camp. You see, my perspicacity was alive and working.”
“Who’s he?” questioned Cooper.
“Who’s who?” snapped Sleuth, irritated.
“Why, Percy P. Cacity. Have there been rumors afloat concerning his death?”