“I guess so,” War agreed, crestfallen.
They started back through the lane, trying to retrace the way they had come. Rows of arching banana plants marched endlessly.
“I’m all mixed,” War presently confessed. “Shouldn’t we be coming to the cart road?”
“It seems to me we’ve walked far enough.”
“Maybe this row we’re following doesn’t intersect the road where we came in,” War said, struck by a sudden, unpleasant recollection. “Before we started out this morning, I was looking at a map that hung in the main shed.”
“Yeah?”
“Some of the rows bisect at right angles. But at one point, the road curves around. The rows at that place, just go straight on.”
“How far, War?”
“Why, it looked as if some of them extended the length of the plantation—miles.”
“Gosh! You think we’ve hit one of those rows, War?”