DICK STUMBLES ON SOMETHING A few moments later Dick Prescott guided the horse down a shaded lane.

"Whoa!" he called, and got out.
"What, now ?" questioned Darrin, as his chum began to hitch the horse to a tree.
"I'm going to prowl over by the bend, and see who's there and what they are doing." Having tied the horse, Dick turned and nodded to his friend to walk along with him.
"You know Bradley told us," Prescott explained, "that the police do not know that Dodge's disappearance has leaked out to the press.
Most folks in Gridley know that I write for 'The Blade.' So I'm in no hurry to show up among the searchers.

I intend, instead, to see what they're doing.

By going quietly we can approach, through that wood, and get close enough to see and hear without making our presence known." "I understand," nodded Darrin.
Within two or three minutes the High School reporter and his chum had gained a point in the bushes barely one hundred and fifty feet away from where two men and a boy, carrying between them two lanterns, were closely examining the ground near the bank.
One of the men was Hemingway, who was a sort of detective on the Gridley police force.

The other man was a member of the uniformed force, though just now in citizen's dress.