Jack interposed with the good sense which rarely forsook him:
“While it is impossible that we should have held a direct southern line, I believe we nearly did so and by going north we shall not stray far from the right path. At any rate, we have only to try it. If we get lost we can yell for help.”
Jack took the lead, but had not gone a hundred yards when he stopped with an exclamation:
“Look at that!”
He pointed to the upper branches of a tall pine, betraying an excitement that was new to him. His companions followed the direction of the extended finger.
“I don’t see anything but a lot of branches,” replied Gerald, after a brief scrutiny.
“Nor do I,” added Arthur.
“Are you blind? On that limb that puts out to the right is a bird’s nest.”
“Well, what of it? This isn’t nesting time; there are no birds there now,” said Arthur after he had located the dark bunch of twigs and grass, well out on a long slender branch.
“I must have a look at the nest; it is a different pattern from any I have seen since coming to Maine.”