“Now, what’s next on the program?” demanded Billy.
“Why, as I’ve managed to find the tracks of the foreigner leaving here, I thought we might start out and follow the trail,” suggested the patrol leader.
“Fine!” ejaculated Billy.
“And I think the same,” added Arthur, “though I hope that after we’re all through with this job you’ll still come back with me, and try out my wireless, Hugh. Promise me that, won’t you, please?”
“You can count on me, Arthur,” the other assured him. “I’m almost as much interested in your experiment as you can be yourself. I think it would be a great thing if we could talk across all the distance between while you’re home here and some of the scouts are on board the Vixen bound up the coast. It would show the boys of the Naval Reserve that scouts are not so slow after all to keep up with the procession. Yes, you can count on me, Arthur, to watch you work your wireless.”
“All right, Hugh. Let’s see if we can find out what’s become of the man who owns this poor bear.”
Hugh immediately led his chums over where he had been working at the moment that the tocsin of alarm from Billy announced that something unusual had happened, and that he was needed in another quarter.
“See here and here,” Hugh told them, pointing as he spoke to the ground.
“That is his trail as sure as anything,” admitted Billy instantly. “And he’s wearing shoes with great big hob-nails in them, too. Most of these foreigners do that, I guess. They make their shoes wear twice as long; and every cent saved means they can go back all the sooner to their old home with a little fortune tucked away in their corduroys or jeans. Lead off, Hugh, and we’ll be right at your heels. And show us anything queer you happen to run across on the trail, see?”
“Because as scouts,” added Arthur, promptly, “we want to be up to all the wrinkles of the business, you know. I find out new things every day, and it seems like the more you know the more you discover you don’t know.”