"I've been a-thinking that maybe they went on ahead, Dick."
"Ahead? That they somehow passed us?"
"Yes; while we were lookin' for 'em. They may be up at B'ar Pond now, waitin' for us."
"Do you advise going up there?"
"We might as well. We can put up a post here, with a message for 'em—in case they do come this way."
"That's an idea, and we can put up other posts, too. Then, if they strike our trail, they'll be sure to go straight in following us." And Dick's face brightened a bit.
John Barrow was already preparing breakfast, and he agreed with Dick to leave some cooked meat in a cloth tied to the top of the pole the youth erected not far from the fire. On the cloth they pinned a note, telling of the direction to Bear Pond, and asking Tom and Sam to follow and fire: two shots, a minute apart, as a signal.
It was a clear day and the sun, shining over the mountain tops, made the snow and ice glitter like pearls and diamonds. There was no wind, so the journey toward Bear Pond was far from un pleasant. They moved slowly, dragging the sled behind them, and searching to the right and the left for some trace of the missing Rovers.
"I don't believe they came up here," said Dick, after half the distance to the pond had been
