"And boys, I feel sure that no matter where we may roam, or what queer things may fall to our lot, we never can enjoy an outing one-half so well as we have this little trip, started with the intention of running down the story of the ghost of Oak Ridge. I'm sure every one of you will agree with me on that."
Although they unanimously voted that what Frank said was the truth, like others of us who cannot lift the veil of the future, the four chums were mistaken, for although they did not dream of it just then, it was written that ere six months had passed they would again be starting out on an expedition with a scope much broader than anything that had as yet dawned upon their experience.
What remarkable happenings befell them under Southern skies, and how they proved themselves, as always, ready to meet and conquer difficulties, will be set before the readers of these stories in a new volume, to be entitled "The Outdoor Chums on the Gulf; or, Rescuing the Lost Balloonists."
When morning came, after a hearty breakfast preparations were made looking to the return of the sheriff and his posse, together with Andy and his father.
Will had made several fine, clear prints of the scene in the collector's library, which the flashlight had revealed so cleverly, and armed with these, Thaddeus Lasher had no fear of the future. He knew that peace and prosperity had finally marked him for a favorite, after his life's bark had been tossed about on tempestuous seas so long.
Of course, Will kept a copy for his collection. He also secured several views of the camp, with the party ready to start. These would give him and his chums much pleasure during their winter meetings, when the events of past outings were being discussed.
So the wagon went away. To dispose of the remarkable event, it might be just as well to say right here that Thaddeus Lasher was speedily released from prison on the strength of that incriminating picture which showed Fletcher, easily recognized, in the act of looting the collector's safe.
Mr. Lasher, later on, led the same eager collector to the spot where the booty had been hidden by the thief, and the whole of it was recovered. The directions given by the dying Fletcher had been somewhat vague, which accounted for Thaddeus having to cover so much ground before he eventually ran across the cache.
The reward was readily handed over to him. It amounted to ten thousand dollars, for the collection was valued at much more than its actual cost by the wealthy man who pursued this fad. Mr. Lasher bought a small cottage near Centerville, and with his wife and three children settled down to real happiness.
Perhaps, after all, his experience, while rough, had been the means of saving him from ruin, for he had been on the downward road at the time of his arrest. He was never heard to complain of the past.