"Hi there! Hi there!" called out Gif, and then Jack sent the rays of his flashlight toward the on-coming turnout.
There were exclamations of astonishment from those in the sleigh, and for a moment it looked to the boys as if the occupants were bent upon passing them without paying any attention to their call. But then Gif, Spouter, and Fred took a position directly in front of the on-coming horses, and the driver brought them snortingly to a sudden stop.
"What do you fellows want?" demanded a heavy guttural voice from the sleigh.
The words were uttered in a German accent, and by the look of his face the speaker, who sat on the front seat beside the driver, was evidently of Teutonic origin. He glared suspiciously at those in the roadway, and Jack and Gif afterward declared that they saw the gleam of a pistol in the man's hand as it was thrust in the flap of his overcoat.
"We've lost our way," said Gif, coming a few steps closer. "We thought maybe you folks could direct us."
"Huh! I don't know about that," said the man in his thick German accent. "Where do you want to go?"
"We want to go to Cedar Lodge. It's located somewhere up here, about five or six miles from Timminsport."
"Cedar Lodge!" said one of the men who were seated on the rear seat of the sleigh. "Do you mean the hunting lodge that is owned by the Garrisons?"
"Yes."
"Then you are on the wrong road to get to that place," said the man. "You'll have to go back the way we came for about half a mile, and then take the road to the left. It is in from this road, I think, about a quarter of a mile."