For once the scout master seemed puzzled himself.  He shook his head in a way that brought new consternation to the heart of Billy Worth.

“You’ve got me up against a hard proposition when you ask me that, Alec!” was what Hugh declared.

“Then you can’t even give a guess, can you, Hugh?” Billy besought him.

“We all heard the racket, that’s sure,” muttered Stallings, as though he had possibly begun to suspect he might be a victim of some delusion, and wished to make certain the others were in the same boat as himself.

“And it sounded just like a dozen, yes, three dozen men shouting like anything,” Arthur assured him.

“I wonder-----” began Billy, starting up eagerly.

“If you’ve got an idea hurry and tell us what it is!” urged the impatient Alec.  “I’ll be hanged if I can grapple anything, it’s given me such a bad shock.”

“Go on, Billy!” added Arthur.

“Why,” explained the fat scout, “you see, I was thinking that p’r’aps those tramps we scared off had come back with a big bunch of their kind, meaning to take possession of the castle.  Now, you needn’t all jump on me and say that’s silly, because I happen to know those hoboes often gather in regular armies about this time of year, heading for the cities.  Hugh, it isn’t such a bad idea, after all, is it?”

“Since none of us seem able to think of any other explanation,” the scout master told him, reassuringly, “it will have to stand until we can strike on a better.  It seems to me the sooner we hike over that way the quicker we’ll learn the real facts.”

“True enough, Hugh,” assented Alec, readily, while the others showed by their actions that they were perfectly willing to make the start.

Their preparations for leaving their camp were few and simple.  What food they had left was thrust up in the crotch of a big tree, so that it might not be carried off by any wandering wild animal, though they had no reason to believe there was anything larger than a ‘coon’ or a ‘possum’ around that region.  The blankets and a few other things of value were also placed in safety, while Alec again tested the supports of his “clothes line” on which those precious films were strung to dry.

“I hate to leave them,” he told the others, mournfully, “but now that they’re wet and sticky they can’t be packed away.  I almost wish I hadn’t been in such a hurry to develop them.”

He stared at Billy as though almost tempted to beg that worthy to stay behind and protect the films by his presence, which Billy absolutely refused to do, rightly interpreting the look.

“Not on your life, Alec, much as I would like to oblige you!” asserted the fat scout, positively.  “I want company when there’s all sorts of strange things happening around.  You don’t catch me sticking to this camp by my lonely.  Stay back yourself if somebody has just got to hold the fort.  My duty lies in the front rank.  History tells that the Worths were always found in the van when danger loomed up.  Sorry not to oblige you, Alec, but it’s simply impossible.  William Worth will sink or swim with his comrades.”