"Do you know what we are doing? We are heading for the road again, instead of for the place where we left the Dartaway!"
"Tom!" gasped Sam. "Are you sure?"
"I am. See that fallen tree? We are about half way between the road and the swamp."
"Yes, I remember the tree, and you are right," said Dick. "This is too bad! And when we are in such a hurry, too!" His voice had a note of despair in it.
"Well, keep to this trail now," said Sam. "Don't miss it,—only follow it backwards."
Once more the three Rover boys turned, and now they scanned every foot of the trail with care. Again they passed the swamp and there discovered how they had made a false turn. Then they hurried forward, under the trees and through the bushes.
The darkness of night had closed in all around them, and the only light was that of the smoky lantern, and from the few stars that shone down through the tree tops. Everything was silent, excepting for the occasional note of a tree toad, or the "glunk" of a frog in the swamp.
"We ought to be there by now," said Sam, a few minutes later.
"There she is!" cried Dick, swinging the lamp up over his head. And in the widening circle of light the three youths beheld the biplane, resting exactly as they had left the craft.
"Thank goodness!" cried Tom. "I was beginning to think we had made another mistake."