“I see. Well, you won’t have nobody bothering you.”
“That is comforting news,” Ted thought, as he left the farmer and moved on. “That will be something like real camp life.”
He came to the end of the rough road and left the car, starting out on a steadily descending path until he came at last to the camp of the Black Riders. Before going to the bottom of the basin he paused to look around him. The place was a perfect bowl, the sides of which were sheathed with fine pine trees. At the bottom ran Bear Creek with its curve that made the swimming pool. On all sides, sloping upward, the forest rippled away into the distance, solid and green.
Ted descended to the bottom of the basin and looked closely over the camp site. His satisfaction was complete as he discovered two fine springs at a little distance above the spot where he figured that the tents should go. The streams from the springs flowed down and into Bear Creek.
“Two dandy springs,” he reflected. “That’s fine. The water goes into the creek, and I guess that makes the water pretty cold, but I suppose we won’t mind that.”
He continued to look over the spot, noting all the natural advantages of the place. As far as he knew there were no disadvantages attached to it. The ground was carpeted with soft pine needles and the air was charged with a fragrant tang. Lost in his thoughts, Ted did not notice the swift passage of time.
The gloom of the woods increased and he awoke at last to the lateness of the hour. His start that afternoon had not been an early one and he realized that he must hurry back. The suddenness with which darkness, aided by a group of dull clouds, came up, amazed him. He could scarcely see before him as he turned to leave.
“Golly, it certainly did get dark in a hurry,” he thought. “I must be getting out of here. I must be the only one for miles around.”
But a moment later, as he glanced up the towering mountains to the left of the camp site, he knew that he was mistaken. In the darkness above a lantern bobbed and swung.