“Wish we’d followed directions on that map,” Willie remarked regretfully.
“The result would have been the same,” Mr. Livingston declared. “I’m sure the markings were altered. We’ll rest awhile and start back.”
Anxiously, the Scouts noted how fast the sun was lowering. The return trip, of course, would be much easier. Even so, it would be nightfall before they reached the Last Chance mine.
After resting for awhile, Jack arose to hack at the rocks with a pick. Among the fragments were a few tiny green specks. But there was no fire in them.
“We must be close to the old vein,” he remarked. “Too bad we can’t camp and try again tomorrow.”
He gazed questioningly at Mr. Livingston. The Scout leader hesitated, then shook his head.
“I wish we could find that old mine, Jack. But time is running out on us. We must get back to camp and devote all our energy to finding Mr. Corning, if he still is alive.”
“How we going to do it?” Ken asked in despair. “Rhodes may have the answer, but he won’t help us. As you pointed out, Hap, it’s hopeless to undertake a search in this wild country unless one has a definite clue.”
“The clues, I’m afraid, never will be forthcoming. Our only one—those flashing signals—aren’t much to go on.”
“Then what’s the program?” Jack questioned.