“A big radio plot, eh?” Hal inferred.
“Maybe,” Bud replied.
“What for? What could they be up to? Pretty far fetched isn’t it?”
“Yes, maybe; but, you know, it’s our business to think up every possible solution and then find out which one fits the facts.”
“All right, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, but where’s the sense in figuring this as a big radio plot unless we can see a sensible answer to it?” Hal demanded.
“Yes, Bud, it’s pretty far fetched,” ruled the dominating Cub. “You’ll have to think up an answer to your conundrum before we can consider it. Why should a college freshman be hazed in the manner that Mr. Baker’s son was hazed just so that some men, confederates of the hazers, could kidnap him? And then why should one of the hazers work the kind of game that that mysterious fellow worked to checkmate us in this rescue trip of ours if the purpose was just to kidnap Mr. Baker’s son, after all? The sophomores had to kidnap him in the first place. Why go through all that Robinson Crusoe nonsense if the end was to be just a plain kidnapping?”
“Then you think there’s no connection between the hazing and the kidnapping,” said Bud.
“I don’t see how there can be. There’s nothing showed up yet that makes it look reasonable.”
As Cub was making his last statement Mr. Perry returned to the camp. The speculative subject of discussion was then dropped for others more immediately practical.
“What did you do with the prisoner?” Hal inquired. “Did you lock ’im up in a stateroom?”
“That’s what we did, and I don’t believe there’s much chance of his getting away with an armed guard constantly near his door,” Mr. Perry replied.
“Are his hands and feet tied?” asked Cub,
“No, we decided that wasn’t necessary. There’s no way he could open the door without making a noise; so we thought we’d let him rest easy, and perhaps he’d be in a better humor in the morning and more willing to talk.”
“We’ve been talking the matter over and we’re all afraid something’s going to happen to-night,” said Hal.
“What do you think is going to happen?” asked Mr. Perry.
“We haven’t any idea.”
“Some more mystery, eh?” smiled the leader of the expedition. “Well, that isn’t at all surprising, in view of the gloominess of our surroundings. Suppose we have a light on the subject. Cub, bring out the flash-lights.”
The latter went into the tent and soon reappeared with four dry-battery lights. These he laid on the table in fan-like arrangement, so that they threw a flood of light in all directions.
“I don’t feel like going to bed yet,” said Cub. “Let’s stay up a while and—”
“—listen-in,” finished Hal.
“Yes, let’s do,” exclaimed Bud eagerly.
“I wasn’t thinking of that,” Cub admitted; “but it’s better than what I had in mind. All right, Hal, tune ’er up. This is a peach of a night for long distance receiving.”