"Just one second," said Gilbert. "How do you know he started for home?"
"How do I know it?" Tom shot back, impatiently.
"Do you think a fellow like Willetts would go home? I'll deliver the letter wherever he is. But he isn't on his way home. I know him."
"Tyson," said Tom, "you're a crackerjack scout. Now get out of here before I throw you out."
CHAPTER XXIII
THE MONSTER
It is better to know your man than to know his tracks. Gilbert Tyson had somehow come to understand Hervey in that one day since his arrival at camp, and he had no intention of exhausting his breath in a futile chase along the road. There, indeed, was a scout for you. He was on the job before he had started.
The road ran behind the camp, the camp lying between the road and the lake. To go to Catskill Landing one must go by this road. Also to make a short cut to Jonesville (where the night express stopped) one must go for the first mile or so along this road. The road was a state road and of macadam, and did not show footprints.