It was in Tom's thoughts to say, "You didn't find him, I found him." But out of respect for the formidable badge which the sheriff wore on one strand of his suspenders, he refrained.
The next morning the newspapers told with conspicuous headlines, the tragic sequel of Aaron Harlowe's escape. "Found on lonely mountain," they said. "Fugitive motorist killed in storm," one of the write-ups was headed: "Storm wreaks vengeance on autoist," which was one of the best headings of the lot. "Sheriff's posse makes grewsome find" was another. And all told how Aaron Harlowe, fleeing guiltily from his crime, had met his fate in the storm-tossed wilds of that frowning mountain. They dwelt on the justice of Providence; they made the storm a kind of avenging hero. It was pretty good stuff.
And that, as I said in the beginning, was where the public interest in Aaron Harlowe ended. The rest of the strange business was connected with Temple Camp and the scouts, and never got into the papers....
It was exactly like Tom Slade that something should interest him in this tragic episode which did not interest the authorities. He left them, quite unsatisfied in his own mind, and with some kind of a bee in his bonnet....
CHAPTER XVIII
TRIUMPH AND——
At about the time that Tom was starting back to camp, rather thoughtful and preoccupied, Hervey Willetts was arriving at camp, not at all thoughtful or preoccupied.