A few moments passed in silence.
“I wish I knew where the lake was,” said Dirk finally.
“Well, this creek here probably runs down into it.”
“That’s true—but as near as I can see, this is the same one that goes right by the cabin. We’d only run right back into Mink’s arms. Guess we’ve got to make for the hills. Then if one of us climbs a tree, we can get our bearings.”
Brick sighed heavily, and Dirk stared at him. Their adventures had put them both in sad case. Garments were stained and torn, bareheaded and grimed with dirt were they, looking like two scarecrows. Dirk wondered why Brick was so laggard in the flight. It was not like him to drag behind. The boy’s freckles stood out against his white face, and his lip was trembling.
“Know what I think?” asked Dirk. “I’ll bet that man with the gun was the person that started the fire. Of course he didn’t do it on purpose, but he was always smoking cigarettes and throwing them away without putting them out first. This morning, when he went away, he was smoking. A spark probably caught somewhere and set fire to the shack—it’s a regular old tinderbox. Well, shall we start again?”
“I’m game,” answered Brick; but he took his time getting to his feet.
They began the second stage of their flight by crossing the creek, where they paused for a hasty draught of water, and then attacked the long steady slope on the far side, toiling upward through a dense growth of evergreens. It seemed as if they would never get clear of the towering trunks and branches that seemed to push down upon their shoulders, smothering them and impeding their way. When at last they attained the height, Dirk was reluctantly forced to abandon his plan to climb a tree and thus get a view of the surrounding country. The lower branches were still so far above his head that it would be impossible for the most agile boy to get a foothold on the smooth trunks.
He turned to Brick. “Say, old lad, perhaps if you give me a boost——” He broke off, seeing the pain in his friend’s drawn face. The eyes were shifting feverishly above the hollow cheeks, and the boy was biting his lip to keep back a moan of anguish. “Why, Brick, are you hurt? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Brick swayed, and had Dirk not run to his side to support his body, would have collapsed to the ground. “I’m—all right,” he gasped out. “You go on—get to the top of the darned mountain—the honor of the camp——”