"Sam Heller, and Nick, I'll wager!" exclaimed Bert.
"Sure," assented Jack. "Much obliged," he called to the farm lad, as the four struck off toward the woods.
"Maybe you won't be—after a bit," murmured the lad, as he turned away from the gate, a twinkle coming into his pig-like eyes. "I earned that dollar easy enough—jest directin' 'em to the wood-road," and he looked at a bill crumpled in his hand. "I never made money any easier. Them two fellers, jest ahead, who told me to direct the next bunch into the woods, must have lots of coin. I guess it'll be a while afore them four lads strike the river, goin' through the woods," and, chuckling, he went into the house, after a look at Tom and his chums.
"Say it's going to be dark before we get back," remarked George, when they were well within the woods. "I wonder if we can see?"
"Sure," asserted Tom. "The trees are cut away at the top and it's going to be moonlight a little later. This is a good road, and, even if it's longer than the other, we cut off a big hill. We can explain how we came to take it, and it's fair as long as we do the distance."
"If we only get in on time," murmured Bert.
"Oh, I guess we will," said Jack.
Together they jogged on. It became more and more dark, and, as the wood road was not in the best of condition, they stumbled over roots and tree branches. But, as Tom said, it was light enough to see their way fairly well.
"Say!" exclaimed Jack, after nearly an hour spent in tramping the woodland path, "this doesn't seem just right. The road is narrower than it was at first."
"Let's strike a match and take a look," suggested Tom.