stepped over, not on, the decaying logs, and his feet were careful not to leave a stone with the moss side downward. When encountering a small dead pool he took great care to skirt it at a sufficient distance to leave no footprints. After an hour of this kind of work he threw himself on a carpet of pine needles for a brief rest.
“How much farther do we go in this direction?” inquired Stanley.
“Only a short way. Just as soon as we clear this growth and find some hard wood I’ll climb a tree and get our bearings more exactly. Mister Nick will be puzzled, I opine, to decide where we vanished to.”
“He may think we made a broad trail purposely,” suggested Stanley.
“I hope so; he’ll be giving us credit for more brains than we possess,” grinned Bub. “No matter what he thinks it won’t help him any when it comes to picking up our trail.”
Emerging from the black growth Bub quickly climbed a large beech and studied the country for fully a minute in silence. When he descended he briskly announced, “No smoke anywhere. I’ve come a bit farther north than I had intended to, but not enough to make any great difference. We’re quite near the river.
