The string was about two inches from Jim’s hand, and within one inch of Bart’s foot.
“What happens if I pull it?”
“Don’t know. That ain’t part of my job,” and Jim blinked his eyes lazily.
“Then I guess I’ll not pull it,” replied Bart, putting his foot on the cord to prevent Jim from doing it.
“All right, maybe I’ll lose my job now, but I don’t care. There’s too much work. Have to stay awake too much.”
Bart turned and beckoned to his companions who had remained in the woods. They came on in a hurry.
“You’re not supposed to come here,” Jim objected in a lazy tone. “I ought to pull that string. Pull it, Bart, you’re closer than I am.”
“Forward!” exclaimed the chief. “We’ll see where this cord leads!”
He started to trace the white string that stretched along the ground and into the woods beyond the clearing. The boys followed, and the party broke into a run. Bart carried the end of the cord with him to prevent Jim from pulling it, but he need not have taken the trouble as Jim had gone to sleep.