“I’ve found that out,” said Bill, sitting down suddenly. “Which way is that woodlot trail from here?” He got to his feet. The tins had saved him from a bad tumble.
“Off to the right—down in the valley.”
“Then let’s steer off that way. Take this hill on the oblique. It’s easier walking. By the way, which side of the river have you got the bus parked?”
“River? What river? I didn’t know there was one.”
“Well, there is. Stone Hill River, it’s called. If you didn’t cross it going up to Stoker’s house, the plane must be on this side.”
“You’ve got a master mind,” she retorted and her light went out.
“What’s the matter?”
“Followed your example, and sat down.”
The light flashed on again.
“Aren’t hurt, are you?”