It was pleasant in the forest that June day. On either side of the road grew tall ferns and there were many wild flowers. The birds were flitting through the branches, and, in spite of the rather queer expedition they were on, the boys enjoyed themselves. As for the man they were guiding, he was content to walk along, stopping, here and there, to look through the forest, or gather some flowers.
"Is there any particular place you want to go to?" asked Bart, when they had been walking on the road for perhaps half an hour.
"I thought you said the road did not lead anywhere."
"Neither it does, but there are paths through the woods branching off the road, and if you wanted to get to a certain spot I think we could take you there."
"No, I only want to see how the road runs. I am not looking for any particular place. But these paths you speak of, are they easy to find?"
"Not unless you know the woods pretty well," put in Ned.
"Ah! Then I suppose a person coming—say from the other side of the forest—would have difficulty in reaching the road and getting into Darewell?"
"It would be quite hard, I imagine," said Bart, "We have never been to the other edge of the forest. It is about ten miles in extent, and we have only been about half way through. It is pretty wild, the farther in you go."
"So much the better," Mr. Hardman murmured. "Now boys, are you ready for lunch? I confess the walk has given me an appetite."
"The same here," admitted Fenn with a laugh.