They started to retrace their steps along the corduroy road, the boys wondering somewhat over the whim of Mr. Hardman. He had not acted like a man who had come to look for a place to erect a dwelling, and, though they expected some oddity in a man who preferred to live in the solitude of the forest, they could not account for his questions about whether or not a person could get from the farther side of the woods to the road.
For about an hour they tramped back over the way they had come. Mr. Hardman said little, and walked just ahead of the boys, who conversed among themselves. Just as they were nearing the end of the road he turned and asked:
"You are sure now there is no other way of going through the forest but this road?"
"Positive," replied Bart.
"You couldn't be mistaken?"
"Well, if there is a road no one in Darewell knows of it," put in Ned. "We've lived here a good many years, and have often been in these woods, and we never heard of any other road."
"That's good," Mr. Hardman responded, and he seemed well satisfied.
"I wonder if Frank will come to meet us?" asked Bart as Mr. Hardman resumed his position slightly in advance of the boys.
"You can't tell much about Frank lately," replied Ned. "I don't know what to make of him. I wish he'd tell us if he is in trouble, for we might help him. I know what it is to be worried about something and not have any one you can talk to. I found that out when I had to disappear in New York," and he laughed at the recollection, though at the time of his trouble he felt in a very different frame of mind.
"Well, we'll just have to let him alone until he's ready to tell us," said Fenn. "Hello!" he added, a moment later, "someone is coming along the road."