"Do you fellows hear that?" he whispered.

"I hear a rumble of wheels off in the distance," replied Greg.

"The air is so wonderfully still that sound carries a long way this evening."

d.i.c.k ran into the tent, returning with an envelope and a pad of paper.

"Come along, Dave," d.i.c.k requested. "And you'd better bring Tom's flashlight. It will be dark before we get back."

The battery of the flashlight having had a good rest, now furnished an excellent light again.

As the two chums set off at a trot Greg inquired:

"Now what are that pair up to?"

"Being one of the four pin-heads belonging to this outfit," Tom made solemn reply, "I can only guess."

"Then what's your guess?" quizzed Danny Grin.

"From the sound that wagon makes rolling over the rough road,"

Tom answered, "I judge that it's headed for the village. If it is, d.i.c.k is going to send in a note by the driver, and thus save one or two of us the tiresome sixteen-mile round trip."

Which proved to be a very correct guess, for Prescott and Darrin, returning three quarters of an hour later, informed the others that d.i.c.k had halted the driver, asking the farmer to wait while the note was being written.

"I sent the note to the post-master," d.i.c.k. went on. "If he and the other folks in the village take enough interest in the matter, I imagine a constable will be sent up to-morrow."

"Perhaps to-night," hinted Dalzell.

"If you were a constable," asked Tom, "would you want to be pulled out of your bed and sent on such a trip in the night time?"

"I'll tell you one thing that we fellows want to do," hinted Darrin, a few minutes later. "When we go to bed we want to take pains to leave some food where it can be easily borrowed by our man of mystery. I've an idea that he has been making night trips down here once in a while to obtain something to eat."

"Two or three times I've thought I missed food in the morning,"

nodded Greg. "Yet, if our man has been getting all his food here, then he is a very light eater."

"And welcome to the little he borrowed," d.i.c.k finished.

"Drowsiness is overcoming curiosity for me," yawned Reade, as he rose and strolled toward the tent. "Any of you other fellows going to turn in?"

"I will," yawned Dalzell, "if you'll permit me to sleep in the same tent with you."

Fifteen minutes later all of the high school boys were sound asleep.

They all dreamed that night of the Man with the Haunting Face.

CHAPTER XXIV

CONCLUSION

"Where's that man you wanted us to look at?" demanded a farmer whose trousers were tucked into his boots.

It was about ten o'clock the next forenoon when this man, accompanied by another man with the same kind of boottops, strode into the camp of d.i.c.k & Co.

"Are you a constable from the village, sir?" inquired young Prescott.

"No; we haven't any constable in the village," replied the farmer, chewing at a straw. "I'm the Overseer of the Poor."

"We'll take you to where we think the man is hiding," d.i.c.k replied.

"Tom and Dave, suppose you two hurry ahead of us, around the woods, and stand where you can head our man of mystery off in case he tries to run the other way. Dave knows where the place is."

Reade and Darrin promptly departed.

"We can start in two or three minutes from now, after they get in position, if that suits you, sir," d.i.c.k suggested.

"Suits me," nodded the Overseer of the Poor. "I'm in no great hurry. Snug camp you boys have here."

"We've enjoyed ourselves greatly," d.i.c.k admitted.

"Going to stay here long?"

"No, sir; we're due back in Gridley soon."

After a little more chat d.i.c.k stated that he believed it was time to go forward to the hut in the woods.

He and Greg went, accompanied by the two farmers. All four trod stealthily. Prescott, in advance, went straight to the bushes that surrounded the brush hut. Still in the lead, d.i.c.k, found the doorway, screened by a tattered blanket, pushed it aside and peered in.

On the floor of earth lay the Man with the Haunting Face. He was so still that at first d.i.c.k thought him dead. d.i.c.k motioned to the others to come forward.

"Humph!" grunted the Overseer of the Poor. "That's Ed Hoskins, who lives over Pelham way."

At sound of the voice the sleeping man quivered, opened his eyes, then, with a scream, sat up, trembling violently.

"You've got me!" he screamed. "You've found me---and I'm not yet fit to go!"

d.i.c.k stepped aside to let the farmers in, while Darrin and Reade approached the spot at a run.

"Keep quiet, Hoskins," ordered the Overseer of the Poor. "Quiet, man; I tell you!"

"Oh, I didn't mean to do it!" moaned the unhappy captive. "I didn't mean to do it, I tell you! And now I must lose my life before I'm fit to go."

"'Touched' here," murmured Prescott, tapping his forehead.

"What are you making such a fuss about, Ed Hoskins?" demanded the Overseer of the Poor.

"I never meant to harm my wife!" screamed Hoskins in an agony of fear. "We had had words, and I meant nothing but to push her aside so I could pa.s.s. But she fell downstairs. It wasn't my fault that her neck was broken!"