“It isn’t supper time yet!”
“Well,” said Mallison, “the only feasible thing I see for us to do is to take one trail after another that leads out of Leftover. We’ll have to follow each trail in turn until we strike the right one.”
“It’s all you can do,” chimed in Hank Bowler. “You can’t follow a party until you get some lead. But there aren’t very many trails leading away from your place, Mr. Mallison.”
This was the truth. But one trail led up to the mine. That trail, coming down the mountain, joined the main road which, after a mile or so, branched off in four directions. This gave four possible routes that the kidnapers might have taken.
But, inasmuch as it was practically certain that Noddy’s crowd had not taken the road to Livingston, there remained but three main trails to follow.
“And the sooner we get on one the better,” said Jerry. “Come on, boys!”
“Yes, snap into it!” exclaimed Tinny, with the vim of an officer in France.
The boys saluted, as they had done in those stirring days, and the car was turned back up Thunder Mountain.
The first trail they took was a disappointing one, in that after they had gone along it for several miles they found that a landslide had covered it. And as the slide had taken place several days before, they knew the kidnapers could not have come along here.
“Back again and try over!” exclaimed Ned.