t want to have many folks observing which way we go. We'll
travel fast right up along the railway track."

Once started, the two boys kept going briskly. Both had been
drowsy at the outset, but the impulse of discovery had them in
its grip now, and fatigue was quickly forgotten.

Something more than half an hour after the start the boys halted
beside the tie that Prescott had whittled in the dark a few hours
before.

"There are the footprints," quivered Dave, staring hard.

"They're not as distinct as they were a few hours ago," replied
Dick. "Still, I think we can follow them. I'm glad they lead
toward the woods."

"Yes," Darrin agreed. "The direction of the footprints shows
that Mr. Dodge and his companions didn't have any notion of boarding
a train and getting out of this part of the world."

Yet, though both of these young newspaper hounds were keen to
follow the trail, they did not find it any easy matter. Dick
and Dave reached the edge of the woods. Then, for a short time,
they were obliged to explore carefully ere they came again upon
one of the bootmarks of fastidious Banker Dodge. It was a hundred
feet further on, in a bit of soft mould, that the next bootprint
was found. Had these two High School boys been more expert trackers
they would have found a fairly continuous trail, but their untrained
eyes lacked the ability to see other signs that would have been
evident to a plainsman.

So their progress was slow, indeed. They could judge only by
the direction in which each last footprint was pointed, and they
had to remember that one wandering through the woods might travel
over a course whose direction frequently changed.

"Dave," whispered Prescott, "I think we had better separate a
little. We might go along about a hundred feet apart. In that
way there is more chance that we'll come sooner upon the next
print."

There were perhaps six hundred feet into the woods, by this time,
and stood looking down at the fifth footmark they had found.

"All right," nodded Darrin. "We're a pair of rank amateurs at
this kind of work, anyway."

"Amateurs or not," murmured Dick, with a smile? "we seem to be
the only folks in Gridley who are on the right track in this mystery
at present."

"I'm full of misgivings, anyway," muttered Dave.

"Why?"

"I can't help feeling that we should have turned our news over
to Chief Coy or Hemingway.

"Again, why?"

"Well, if we lose our man now, we'll soon f