“I don’t understand why Uncle Elk did not keep you company when he expected to follow you so soon,” said Alvin.
“He hasn’t been out of my sight for a minute since he left my home.”
All looked in the direction of the familiar voice. Their Instructor in Woodcraft had appeared among them as unobtrusively as a shadow.
Scout Master Hall looked at his watch. The hands showed that it lacked twenty-eight minutes to nine. Uncle Elk remarked:
“I stood behind the oak for a couple of minutes; I did not tell Michael of my engagement with you, for I wanted to observe what benefit my instruction last night was to him.”
“Didn’t I do foine?” asked the proud youth.
“You did not; I directed you to hold to a straight line till you reached camp, but you twisted and shifted about until more than once I thought you would turn back to my cabin.”
“Ye see, Uncle Elk, I couldn’t furgit that winsome breakfast ye gave me, and then, too, some of the trees had a way of getting in front of me and I had to turn out for ’em or walk through ’em, as Jim O’Toole tried to do whin he found all the Horse Guards drawn up in front of him.”
“When you were half way here, you walked for fifty yards at right angles to the right course. I was about to call to you when you see-sawed back.”
“Begging pardon fur the same,” said the grinning Mike, “I don’t understand that when I looked back many times I niver obsarved yersilf.”