“No, you’re away off there; it’s the left one,” remonstrated Step Hen, limping more decidedly with his right leg to prove that it was not “in the running.”
“Both of you are correct,” declared Thad. “It all depends on the point of view you choose to take.”
“And of course Hank and Company started out on the new trail, because I can see the marks of their brogans?” ventured Giraffe.
“Yes,” Allan replied, “they looked around the camp a bit, perhaps surprised to find that even a tenderfoot scout knows how to take care of himself. Then they pushed on.”
“How far behind Bumpus?”
“I should say about three hours,” replied the trail master, without hesitation.
“He’s got that much lead, then?” Giraffe asked.
“Close on it,” Allan answered. “But something may cause him to stop, and then they’d overtake him. On the whole, I’d rather guess those men would make faster time than our chum.”
“And be slowly but surely gaining, all the while?” suggested Thad.
“Yes.”