So, as they climbed steadily, though slowly, upward, they chatted in low tones. Thad had warned his comrade that they must imagine an enemy back of every tree, and act accordingly, so as not to betray themselves by unwise talk.
It was rough going. Plenty of times they had to pull themselves up by main muscular strength, over some rocky obstruction. Then again, perhaps they would have it comparatively easy for a brief interval.
"Here's a plain trail leading upward," remarked Thad, whose eyes had been on the lookout all the time. "Suppose we follow it some. Chances are it'll be easier going, because whoever lives up here would know the softest road."
"That's true," assented Bob; "but we'd best not keep on this same trail too long."
"Why not?" asked the other, looking around at his chum.
"You must know that it sure leads, sooner or later, to some hidden cabin of a man who's got some pretty good reason for keeping away from the beaten road."
"Yes, I guessed that the first thing; and I suppose you mean he'd feel angry some if he saw two fellows in uniform following his trail?" Thad suggested.
"Angry—well, that hardly covers the ground," chuckled Bob. "When these mountain men don't like a thing they start to shooting right off the handle. Never waste time, suh, in asking questions; they judge things as they see them, and act accordingly. And believe me, Thad, when their guns speak, generally something goes down."
"Well, on the whole I think what you said carries so much weight with me, Bob, that I've lost pretty much all interest in this same trail. It don't look near so attractive as it did; and I wouldn't be surprised if we'd make better time just keeping on straight up the face of the old hill."
They looked at each other, and laughed softly, as though it was mutually understood what meaning Thad intended to convey back of his words.