“I’m thankful the river doesn’t run east and west as well,” said Chub. “’Tis a merry life we lead.”
Back they went to the cove and around that to another point. But below there the shore wound in and out confusedly, and, even had the Slow Poke lain fifty yards away from them, it was now so dark that it is doubtful if they could have discerned her.
“Let us lie down here quietly and die,” suggested Chub.
“Oh, don’t fool,” said Roy. “Come on.”
“Wait a minute, fellows!” this from Dick. “Come to think of it, when we got out onto the road this afternoon there was a sign on the fence, don’t you remember?”
“Sure!” cried Chub. “‘Noble’s Chill and Fever Compound;’ we spoke of it! That’s easy; all we’ve got to do is to get back to the road and find the sign.”
“For all we know there may be one every fifty feet,” said Roy, pessimistically. “However, we’ll try it.”
Getting back to the road was no simple matter, though. The woods were pitch dark now, and the
