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Soon after the sandwiches, cakes and lemonade had been disposed of, the Boy Scouts set out for home, agreeing to meet the major next morning after breakfast.

They had not gone many steps from the house when Tubby stopped as suddenly as if he had been shot.

“Gingersnaps!” he exclaimed. “I’ve just thought of something.”

“Goodness! Must hurt,” jeered Merritt unsympathetically.

“No—that is, yes—no, I mean,” sputtered the fat boy. “Say, fellows, I heard this afternoon that Sam Phelps from Aquebogue told a fellow in the village that he had seen Freeman Hunt over there this morning.”

“You double-dyed chump,” exclaimed Rob, who was walking a way with them, “and you never said anything about it. If Freeman was there, I’ll bet his father was, too, and that’s where those two men have gone.”

“Gee whiz, if they have they must be there yet, then!” exclaimed Merritt, excitedly, “unless they left by automobile.”

“How’s that?” demanded Rob.

“It’s this way. There was no train after those chaps took the wallet, till almost eight o’clock. They must have hidden in the woods and caught it some place below, unless Si arrested them.”

“He’d have been at the house to get the reward if he had,” rejoined Rob.

“Very well, then. He didn’t catch them, and if the Hunts are at Aquebogue, that’s where they’ve gone.”

“Yes, but what’s to prevent them leaving there?”

“No train after nine-thirty till to-morrow morning, and the eight o’clock from here doesn’t get to Aquebogue till after that time; so they must be stranded there, unless they have a car.”

“Cookies and cream cakes! That’s right!” cried Tubby, “let’s phone the police at Aquebogue to look out for them.”

But the lads found that the wire between Hampton and Aquebogue wasn’t working. The telegraph office was closed. They exchanged blank glances.

“What are we going to do?” demanded Tubby.

“What all good scouts ought to do—the best we can,”—rejoined Rob.

“And that is, under the present circumstances?” questioned Merritt.

“To go to our garage—Blenkinsop’s—on Main Street, and get out the car.”

“It’ll be closed,” rejoined Tubby.

“I’ve got a key,” replied Rob; “I’ll ’phone the house that I’m going for a night spin. We can get there, notify the police, and be back in two hours.”

“Forward, scouts!” ordered Merritt, in sharp, “parade-ground” tones, “and ‘Be Prepared’ for whatever comes along.”

Rob found that the telephone to his home was also out of order, owing to repairs which were being rushed through by night. So ten minutes later, when the car glided out of the garage on Main Street and slipped silently through the sleeping town, there was nobody in Hampton who knew the Boy Scouts’ night mission.

CHAPTER V.
A MIDNIGHT AUTO DASH.

The auto, a fast and heavy machine, plunged along through the night at a great rate. Its bright searchlight cast a brilliant circle of radiance far ahead into the darkness. Occasionally frightened birds could be seen flying out of the inky hedges, falling bewildered in the path of the white glare.

It was exhilarating, blood-stirring work, all the more keenly delightful from the sense of adventure with which it was spiced.

Rob was at the wheel, steering straight and steady. He knew the road well. Part of it had been the scene of that thrilling night ride described in The Boy Scouts and the Army Airship, when the boys had overtaken the two thieves who had stolen the aeroplane documents. On that occasion, it will be recalled, an accident had been narrowly averted by a soul-stirring hair’s breadth, as a train dashed across the tracks.

Rob’s three companions sat back in the tonneau and conversed in low tones. Only the irrepressible Tubby was not duly impressed with the momentousness of the occasion. From time to time a snicker of laughter showed that he was cracking jokes in the same old way.

“Say,” he remarked, as they bumped across the railroad tracks, “even if we do find out where these fellows are, I don’t know just what we’re going to do with them at this time of night. Reminds me——”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Tubby,” groaned Merritt.

“Let him go ahead,” struck in Hiram, “the sooner he blows off all his steam the sooner he’ll shut up for good.”

“Reminds me,” went on the unruffled Tubby, “of what a little girl said to her mother when the kid asked her what sardines were. The mother explained that they were small fish that big ones ate. Then the little girl wanted to know how the big fish got them out of the tins.”

There was a deathly silence, broken only by a low groan from Merritt.

“Call that a joke?” he moaned.

“Don’t spring any more. My life ain’t insured, by heck,” put in Yankee Hiram.

“Well, that got a laugh in the minstrel show where I heard it,” responded the aggrieved joke-smith.

Before long, lights flashed ahead of them, and, descending a steepish hill, they chugged into the town of Aquebogue. It was a fairly large town, and here and there lighted windows showed that some of the low resorts were still open for business. Far down the street shone two green lights, which marked the police station. The auto glided up to this, and Rob jumped out, accompanied by Merritt, leaving Tubby and Hiram in the car.

“Let’s get out and stretch our legs a bit,” said Tubby presently. It was taking some time for Rob to explain his errand to a sleepy police official.

“All right, my boy,” drawled Hiram. “I’m not averse to a bit of leg-stretching.”

The two lads got out and strolled as far as the street corner.

“H’s’h!” exclaimed Tubby suddenly, as they reached it. He seized Hiram’s arm with every appearance of excitement.

“Wa-al, what is it now?” asked the down-east boy; “more jokes and didoes?”

“No. See that chap just sneaking down the street from the opposite corner?”

“Yes; what of it? Are you seeing things?”

“No. But it’s Freeman Hunt—I’m sure of it.”

“By ginger, I believe you are right! It does look like him, for a fact. But what can he be doing here?”

“I’ve no more idea than you. But he must be up to some mischief.”

“Reckon that’s right.”

“I tell you that where Freeman Hunt is, his father is not far off, and the rest of the gang must be about here, too. I guess it was a good thing we came out here.”

“Well, what shall we do? Go back and tell the police?”

“No. While we were gone he’d sneak away, and we might miss him altogether. I’ve got a better plan.”

“Do tell!”

“We’ll follow him at a distance and see where he goes. Then we can come back and report.”

“Sa-ay, that’s a good idea. Come on.”

Freeman Hunt was almost out of sight now. But as the two scouts took up the trail, they saw him pause where a flood of light streamed from the window of a drinking-place. He paused here for an instant and gave a low whistle; presently the boys’ hearts gave a bound. From the doors of the resort issued three figures, one of which they recognized, even at that distance, as Stonington Hunt. With him were the two men who had played such a prominent part in the