"Not as bad as that," asserted Tom. "We may make it yet, if we can strike a good road. This looks like something here, fellows," he added, as he emerged from the woodland path upon a firm footing. "It is!" he cried a moment later. "I guess we can make it now! Come on!"
Holding his torch of bark above his head, Tom led the way. He was quite sure of himself now, even though he did not know just where the path was coming out. It was broadening as he advanced, and he was positive it did not lead deeper into the woods.
"Ugh!" suddenly grunted Tom, as he came to an abrupt halt.
"What's wrong?" asked Jack.
"I ran into a fence, or something. Yes, It's a fence," Tom went on.
"We must have struck some sort of a farm."
"I wish it was the one where that fellow works," put in Jack. "I'd like to rub his nose in the mud for sending us on the wrong path."
"There's a light over there!" cried Bert, as he and the others came up to where Tom had come to a halt at the barrier. It was a rail fence of the "snake" variety, and Tom had run full tilt into it in the darkness, his torch having burned out.
"A light!" cried Bert. "That means a house, or some sort of human habitation. Let's head for it, fellows, and maybe we can get on the right road."
"Over the fence is out!" cried Jack, as he leaped the barrier. "Come on, fellows!"
The others followed him, the torch of George being the only one aglow.