Slipping into the ditch, the old scout told the others to lie low, while he and Bernstein surveyed the situation. It was silent, and from overhead only a few stars twinkled down upon them.
Old Benson presently pointed with his bony hand.
"Clear that way, aint it?" he whispered.
"Looks so," answered Bernstein, after a searching look lasting several minutes. "I wouldn't go too close to that patch of underbrush, though."
The party began crawling along the ditch, until they came to a little gully which the last heavy rains had formed. Here they progressed on hands and knees until they reached some low brushwood. Then old Benson, still crouching close to the ground, set off on a lope, and the others came after him in Indian file.
If they had been discovered, neither Indians nor desperadoes gave any sign, and inside of ten minutes the fort was left out of sight, and they were standing in a hollow fringed with berry bushes. The boys were somewhat out of breath, and old Benson gave them a short spell in which to get back their wind.
"We were right, they are none of 'em in this vicinity," said the old scout. "Getting away was easier than I expected."
"It was no easy matter with the drum," came from Cass. "I came pretty close to falling and smashing it once."
The course now led up a small hill and then across a valley to another hill, a distance of nearly three miles. The trail was by no means straight and the walking was bad, and Joe and Darry had all they could do to keep up with the others.
At the last minute Captain Moore had given the boys half a dozen rockets, and explained how the fireworks were to be set off. Everything they could do to puzzle the enemy was to be done.