And still, he did not believe that this was the true reason these men disliked passing through Stanhope if it could be avoided.  Perhaps they had some suspicion that Mr. Pender was visiting there; and did not want to take chances of his meeting them face to face.

“Sure there is,” broke in Jack, who saw no reason why he should not believe the artful excuse given; for Jack did not know all his chum had learned about these parties; “after you pass the bend yonder, just turn to the left.  You can’t miss the road, for its got a big maple tree right at the junction.  We call that the Grapevine Road, because it twists and turns so; but it will fetch you out right at the old dam, mister.”

Many a time had Jack himself walked along that same winding path when coming home with a string of bass, taken in the mill pond.  It was longer, to be sure, but there were some fine apple trees on the way; and the walk through the dense woods was so much more enjoyable on a hot summer day than the open stretch that marked the other route.

The man flipped the coin in the air, and as it fell at Paul’s feet he felt constrained to stoop and pick it up.  To do anything else might have aroused the suspicions of the man who stared.  And at the worst it meant another contribution toward the various funds which the boys were raising for many purposes.

Boys as a rule have little objection about receiving “tainted money.”  And while Paul understood that these men had been breaking some of the laws of the land, he was not supposed to know the particular way in which their money had been gained.

“Much obliged for the information, boys; and please don’t report us in town as being short a license tag.  We’ll get a new one just as quick as we can.  So-long!”

As the shorter fellow started the machine his companion waved his hand at the two chums on the road, both of whom of course returned the salute.

Jack watched his friend out of the corner of his eye as they walked on.  Perhaps he was entertaining a dim suspicion that Paul might be keeping something from him.

But he asked no questions; and the other volunteered no information.  A scout is supposed to know when to hold his tongue, especially when in the company of his superior officer; and so Jack let the matter drop.

“See, they’ve turned in, all right, Paul,” he said, as he pointed to the broad marks of heavy tires leaving the main road, and passing under the spreading maple that stood at the junction with the Grapevine.

“That’s so,” returned Paul, apparently not in the least interested; and yet as they continued to walk briskly toward home he frequently turned a wistful look over his left shoulder, as in fancy his thoughts followed those two strangers up to the old farmhouse at the mill pond.

Who was this Solus Smithers?  Could he be in league with these two men whom the Government expert was sent to watch?  Paul remembered that he had heard several people talking about the man and his ways.  He seemed to have plenty of money, yet he made no effort to farm the place he had rented that summer.