Soon the woods and the prairies began to grow dark. The sun was lost to view behind tall trees which cast shadows of incalculable length. It grew colder, too, and he buttoned his light coat tightly about him.
To pass the time he began to eat some of the food left behind by Clemmer. It was not particularly appetizing, and in the city Dick might have passed it by for something better. But just then it tasted "just boss," to use Dick's own words. A bracing air and hunger are the best sauces in the world.
An hour had gone by, and all was dark, when Dick started up from a reverie into which he had fallen. What was that which had reached his ears from a distance? Was it a cry, or merely the moaning of the rising wind?
He listened. No, it was not the wind—it was a cry—a girl's voice—the voice of Nellie Winthrop!
"It is Nellie!" came from his set lips, and his face grew pale. Again came the cry, but this time more faintly.
From what direction had that cry for help proceeded? In vain the boy asked himself that question. He was not used to a life in the open and the rising wind was very deceptive.
"I must find her!" he gasped, leaping from the rocks. "I shan't remain here while she is in trouble."
