“He surely must have gotten on the trail of the two-tailed lizard this time,” exulted Ned. “Now we’ll find him, and we’ll probably see him camping out under a hut of boughs, studying the habits of the lizard, so he can write a book about it.”
“Maybe,” agreed Jerry.
They tramped on, and so eager and enthusiastic did they become that they failed to note the passage of time. It grew dark almost before they realized it, and Jerry, coming to a halt in a dense glade, where the shadows were long and gloomy, said:
“Hold on, fellows, we can’t keep this up.”
“Why not?” asked Andy.
“Because we’ll have to spend the night in the woods if we do. We can’t get back before nightfall, as it is, and this trail goes on, as you can see.”
Indeed the marks of the hob-nailed shoes were still plainly to be seen in the soft ground.
“Just a little farther,” pleaded Bob, and Jerry gave in, against his better judgment.
But finally the tall leader called a halt.