On this account he was determined to keep pushing on until the darkness became too dense to allow further progress. When they found themselves up against such a snag as this it would be time to consider the last resort, which must consist of shelter under some outcropping rocks, or a rustic hangout made of branches and every other sort of thing available.
The boys were not talking so much latterly. It seemed as though they might be feeling too tired for merriment, or else the increasing gravity of their situation began to impress them.
One thing Thad regretted very much. This was the fact that after the rain had come and gone they could hardly expect to follow the man who wore the old blue army coat by means of the tracks he left behind him, for these would have been utterly obliterated. They must then depend on information given by the inmates of such houses as they came upon along the road.
“It’s sure commencing to get dark, Thad,” grumbled Giraffe, after a while, as if to explain why he had stubbed his toe, when by rights all that clumsy business was supposed to be monopolized by poor Bumpus.
“That’s partly because we happen to be passing under a big patch of woods here on the right,” the patrol leader explained; “which helps to shut out more or less of the light from the west. Over there across the river the sky is so gloomy you couldn’t expect it to help out any.”
“But inside of half an hour at the most it’ll be so black you can’t see a hand before your face,” Step Hen observed.
“I suppose you mean we ought to be thinking of stopping,” Thad returned, “and I’m of the same mind; but I hate to give up the hope of striking some farm, where we could get another chance to sleep in the haymow. But give me ten minutes more, boys, and if we fail to strike what we want I’ll call a halt.”
“Whew! I’ve got a hunch we’re going to run up against an experience before long that we won’t forget in a hurry, either!” volunteered Davy.
“Here, none of that croaking, Davy Jones!” cried Bob White. “We’ve all been through so much that it doesn’t become any member of the Silver Fox Patrol to show the white feather, suh.”
“Nobody’s thinking of doing that same, Bob White,” retorted Davy; “I was only trying to figure out what sort of a night we had ahead of us. If it comes to knocking up against trouble, I reckon I’m as able to hold up my end of the log as the next one. My record will prove that.”