But the man did not stay. With a bound he was up on the pile of
boxes, and the next moment he was poised on top of the fence. Before
leaping down on the other side, a jump at which even a practiced
athlete might well hesitate, the fleeing stranger paused and looked
back. Tom gazed at him and recognized the man in an instant. He was
the third of the mysterious trio whom the lad had seen in the
Mansburg restaurant.

"Wait a minute! What do you want sneaking around here?" shouted Tom
as he ran forward. The man returned no answer, and an instant later
disappeared from view on the other side of the fence.

"He jumped down!" thought Tom. "A big leap, too. Well, I've got to
follow. This is a queer proceeding. First one, then the second, and
now the third of those men seem determined to get something here. I
wonder if this one succeeded? I'll soon find out."

The lad was up on the pile of packing-cases and over the fence in
almost record time. He caught a glimpse of the fugitive running
toward the woods. Then the boy leaped down, jarring himself
considerably, and took after the man.

But though Tom was a good runner he was handicapped by the fact that
the man had a start of him, and also by the fact that the stranger
had had a chance to rest while hiding for the second time in the big
box, while Tom had kept on running. So it is no great cause for
wonder that Mr. Swift's son found himself being distanced.

Once, twice he called on the fleeing one to halt, but the man paid
no attention, and did not even turn around. Then the youth wisely