"Look here!"
He pointed to some footprints in a bit of muddy ground.
"Cadet shoes!" cried Tommy Tucker. "Jimminy Crickets, I'll bet it's that
Marshall Morgan and his crowd!"
"But this is a girl's shoe," protested Betty, pointing to another print.
"See the narrow toe?"
"Ada Nansen or Ruth Royal!" guessed Bobby quickly. "They're the only ones
who won't wear a sensible shoe."
CHAPTER XXIII
JUST DESERTS
"Who," demanded Betty, "is Marshall Morgan?"
"He's a pest," said Tommy, with characteristic frankness. "He has one
mission in life, and that is to plague those unfortunates who have to be
under the same roof with him. He never does anything on a large scale,
but then a mosquito can drive you crazy, you know."
"Dear me, he ought to know Ada," rejoined Bobby. "Perhaps he does. She is
a pestess, if there is such a word."
"There isn't," Betty assured her. "Anyway, this won't get our lunch back.
What are you going to do, Bob?"
"A little Indian work," was Bob's reply. "We'll send out scouts to locate
the thieves and then we'll surround them and let the consequences fall."
"I'll be a consequence," declared Bobby vindictively.
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