“Let’s see how close you came to it,” remarked Giraffe, as he took out the cheap but effective dollar watch the patrol leader carried. “Well, now, what d’ye think of that for hittin’ the bull’s eye plumb in the center.”
He held the watch up to show that the hands pointed exactly to four. Thad laughed.
“Perhaps I couldn’t hit it as close as that in a dozen times,” he admitted. “But it’s always easy to get pretty near the hour, day or night, if you only fall into the habit of noticing where the sun, moon or stars should be. There isn’t a time in the night, if the sky happens to be clear, but what I can tell you the hour within ten minutes anyhow.”
“Have we gained any on Bumpus?” asked Giraffe.
At this question the scoutmaster shook his head.
“I’m sorry to say we don’t seem to gain any,” he remarked. “Where we picked up some at times, we lost again when the trail got faint.”
“Huh! looks like an endless task, then,” grunted Step Hen. “Bumpus keeps tramping along, every day, and when night comes we’re just the same distance behind. Seems to me we’ll just never get him at that rate.”
“Oh!” replied Thad, not at all dismayed, “we’ll just keep at it, you know. Lots of things are apt to happen to help us. Bumpus will tire out soon. Then he may get discouraged, and just make up his mind to stay in camp till we come.”
“Which would be a mighty sensible thing for him to do,” declared Step Hen.
“But that wouldn’t fetch him his bear,” chuckled Giraffe, “and that’s the one thing worth living for with Bumpus right now.”