The rest,
in regulation type, pertained to the unsuccessful search for the child
by private means. A couple of ponds had been dragged, the numerous acres
of the fine estate had been searched inch by inch, barns and haystacks
and garages and smokehouses had been ransacked, an old disused well had
been explored, the neighboring woodland had been covered, but little
Anthony Harrington, Jr., had disappeared as completely as if he had gone
up in the clouds.
"You fellows had better be getting ready for supper," said Tom Slade, as
he passed.
"Look here, Tomasso," said Roy.
Tom paused, half interested, and read the article without comment.
"Some excitement, hey?" said Roy.
"It's a wonder they didn't mention the color of the sweater while they
were about it," Tom said.
"The kid had on a mackinaw jacket," Roy shot back.
"How do we know what was under the mackinaw jacket?" Tom said. "Come on,
you fellows, and get washed up for grub."
"Mm-mmm," said Pee-wee Harris.
CHAPTER XXV
THE PATH OF GLORY
The affair of the kidnapping created quite a sensation at camp, partly,
no doubt, because stories of missing people always arouse the interest
of scouts, but chiefly perhaps because the thing was brought so close to
them.
Catskill Landing was the station for Temple Camp. It was there that
arriving troops alighted from boat or train. It was the frequent
destination of their hikes. It was there that they bought sodas and ice
cream cones.
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