But there isn't.
I'm going to stop and smoke until the launch heaves in sight." Both policemen threw themselves on the ground, produced pipes and fell to smoking.

But Bert Dodge, with the restlessness of keen distress, continued to stumble on up and down along the bank, flashing the lantern everywhere.
Presently Dodge was within sixty feet of where his High School mates crouched in hiding.
Suddenly the livery stable horse, some four or five hundred feet away, whinnied loudly, impatiently.
Natural as the sound was, young Dodge, in the tense state of his nerves, started and looked frightened.
"Wh-what was that ?" he gasped.
"A horse," called Hemingway quietly.

"Probably some critter passing on the road." "I wish you'd see who's with that horse," begged young Dodge.
"It may bring us news.

I'm going, anyway." With that, swinging the lantern, Bert Dodge started to cut across through the woods with its fringe of bushes.
Dave Darrin slipped away, and out of sight.

Before Dick could do so, however, young Dodge, moving at a fast sprint, was upon him.
Bert stopped as though shot when he caught sight of the other boy.
"Dick Prescott ?" he gasped.
"Yes," answered Dick quietly.
"What are you doing here ?" "I came to see what news there is about the finding of your father." Hemingway had now reached the spot, with the other policeman some yards to the rear.
"You write for 'The Blade,' don't you ?" challenged Bert.
"Yes," Dick assented.
"And 'The Blade' people sent you here ?" cried Bert Dodge, in a voice haughty with displeasure.
"Perhaps 'The Blade' sent me here," Dick only half admitted.
"Sent you here to pry into other people's affairs and secrets," continued young Dodge impetuously.