"That's that. I think we have seen the last of him," said Garry.
As a matter of fact, this was the last they saw of him, for he never stopped until he reached the station, where he hid until he had a chance to steal a ride on the rods of a freight train.
Back at the lean-to, they pieced the map together again, and were able to find the second missing location. According to the remainder of the note, mark number two consisted of three great stumps, close together in triangular form. The directions were to dig between them, where the secret of the mine would be disclosed.
Garry fished out a map of the State, and found that the Shohela river ran not more than forty miles away. The town of Jennings was marked, and proved to be a small village, deserted almost in the summer, for the tourists had not penetrated to that section, but quite a center in the winter for lumberjacks coming and going to their work in the woods.
The river itself was used for the log drives in the spring. Somewhere above was the bend in the river, from where they could guide their steps until they found the secret mine. Just what kind of a mine it would prove to be, none of the boys had any idea. It would hardly be silver or gold, for there never had been one found in that State. They thought there was a chance of there being copper, as in Wisconsin there were great copper mines.
Figuring out their course, they decided to start that afternoon, and by easy marching, arrive at Jennings late the following day.
They repacked their knapsacks, using part of the food they had stored in the tree cache, and then left the remainder of it in the lean-to with a note addressed to old Dud, saying he could have it, and bidding him goodbye for the time being.
They intended to come back after they had found or failed to find the lost mine and say goodbye to the Everetts.
After a march of about five hours, they camped under the trees for the night, and were soon eating a supper cooked over the open campfire. For safety's sake they kept sentry duty up through the night, not fearing anyone in particular, but with the idea that an ounce of prevention was worth a pound of cure.
After breakfast they took up the march again, stopping an hour for lunch, and then resuming the journey, reached Jennings just at sunset.