"Well, where to next?" questioned the farmer, as he and Dick came to a halt.
The youth shook his head. "It's so dry here the footprints are lost," he returned slowly.
"That's true, Dick. But I reckon he went to Oak Run."
"Why?"
"Because he could catch a train from there which would take him miles away—and I guess that is what he wants to do just about now."
"There is something in that."
"Besides, you know, the other end of the road ends up in the woods. He wouldn't go there."
"I had best start for Oak Run, then."
"I'll go along."
The distance was a mile and a half, and they thought they would have to walk it, but hardly had a dozen rods been covered than they heard the sound of wagon wheels, and a grocery turnout and came into sight driven by a boy Joel Darrel knew well.