CHAPTER X.
SETTING A NEW TRAP What Dick had caught sight of, and what had made him call to his chums was the figure of the camp prowler partially dressed seated on the edge of a pool of water fed by a forest brook where evidently he had been bathing.
He had heard Dick's cry, however.

These few instants of time had been enough for the bather to jump up, snatch up the remainder of his clothes and set off through the woods with the speed of an antelope.
"Come on!" cheered Dick Prescott.

"Full speed! We'll catch him.
He hasn't his shoes on, and his bare feet will soon go lame on the twigs and stones that he'll step on in running.

He can't go far before we nab him." "Spread out, fellows!" called Tom Reade.

"Don't let the rascal slip through our line.