He saw lanterns darting about the hill top. One came down, apparently carried by a man who was following the road. There was the sound of a horse’s neighing, some distance away, and then Hike had the worst shock of the night. From some distance away, along the road clattered three or four horses’ hoofs; and the shouts of three or four riders were heard. So, then, the two thugs had companions, who had been sleeping over there, somewhere in the great darkness which was making him feel so “awf’ly alone” against all these men. The horsemen were circling, quartering what seemed to be fields about the hill; hunting over every inch of the hill itself. At last, he saw the lanterns, which marked the searchers, draw together, at the edge of the marsh, and he heard a loud voice: “Well, I tell you he must be in the marsh—way in, then, Bat. We’ve looked everywhere else. He couldn’t ’ve gotten far.” “All right,” came Bat’s voice. “Get out that auto light, then, and we’ll search the blooming marsh.” A horseman galloped away, soon returning. Then, to his horror, Hike saw the group at the edge of the marsh kindle what looked to be a powerful head-light, with strong reflectors. Its rays swept through the thickets of the marsh, as the light was slowly turned. A shout sounded from the knot of horsemen as the beams struck Hike. He knew that he was found. Calmly rising, he drew on his coat, stooped to kill a mosquito that had caught in a fold, and strolled out through the thick mud as calmly as though he were walking through the Santa Benicia Academy Yard. The men on the edge of the marsh received him with a broad grin. “Well,” said Hike to them, “I think I’ll go to bed. Tired of walking. Say, have you got anything to eat?” “Kid,” said Bat, the leader, “you’re all right. (Shut up, you Snafflin—you only got what was coming to you!)” “Mosquitoes kind of thick to-night,” observed Hike, cheerfully. “Think we’ll have a little rain. Seems wet.” He stooped down and brushed an imaginary speck of dust off the only place on his trousers that was not thick with mud. “You’re all right,” grinned Bat, again. “Hanged if I’m going to tie you up again. But there’ll be two men—_two_—watching you, all the time. Kid for a kid—yes, and for a man—you’re a wonder. Say, how did you cut through them ropes without a knife?” “I let your friend Snafflin look at ’em,” said Hike, “and they just rotted in two. Well, I guess I’ll go to bed. Is the water hot enough for a bath?” CHAPTER XIII DETECTIVE POODLE Lieutenant Adeler and Poodle Darby had not received a single word from Hike, even by noon of the day after his disappearance.