A forlorn hope, if there ever was one, Jake Utway told himself as he hastened toward the nearing cluster of houses that marked the crossroads town. Of the four of them who had faced the new day in heartsome spirits, he alone was the only one still uncaught. First Sherlock, then Jerry, and now Burk—one, two, three!—one after another they had sacrificed their liberty in order that the venture should go forward. And it should go forward, to the very end, Jake promised himself. Canoe Mountain or bust! It was part of playing the game, to keep on and on toward the goal, as long as breath was left to struggle ahead——
A boy in overalls was riding slowly toward him on a bicycle. Jake halted and waved his arm at the oncoming lad, who pulled to a stop, and eyed him suspiciously.
“Hello, kiddo,” smiled Jake. “Where do you live?”
The boy scuffed the toe of his shoe into the dirt beside the road, and gaped with open mouth before answering. He jerked a grimy thumb to the right. “Yonder.”
“Want to make some money?”
The boy’s eyes widened. “Huh?”
“I said, do you want to make a little extra money? Listen; I have to go somewhere pretty quick. Lend me that bike of yours for a couple hours, and I’ll pay you.”
“Naw.”
Jake fished in his pocket and pulled out all the cash he had been able to bring with him. “Look! There’s almost four dollars there. Four bucks, just for letting me ride your old bike for a little while! I promise to bring it back in good shape.” The farmer lad shook his head. Jake jingled the money in his palm. “You won’t have another chance to make money this easily!”
The boy pointed a finger at Jake’s scout knife, which he had drawn from his pocket with the money. “What kinda knife’s that?”