“Just think of all the climb we wasted,” said Jim. “We might have been at camp twenty minutes ago had we been able to keep in the right direction.”
“Well, one thing is sure,” Gerald responded; “we’ll be able to find it now.”
They set off down the road, which, being composed of sand, was plainly visible in the moonlight, in spite of the deep shadows thrown by the trees on either side.
Some moments later they made out the tents. This time there was no mistake, for, as they listened, they heard the murmur of voices. The girls and Aunt Betty were no doubt discussing their protracted absence. Probably suspecting that some harm had come to the boys they were afraid to make their presence known, and were talking in low, guarded tones.
“Camp ahoy!” cried Gerald, suddenly.
Then everyone screamed, and there was a scramble to strike a light, as they all crowded around the boys with eager questions. Ephy struck a light and by its fitful glare the girls saw the pale face of the lad Jim and Gerald had found on the mountain.
“Here’s the result of our trip,” said Jim, as he led his burden forward.
“In heaven’s name!” cried Aunt Betty. “Who have you there, Jim Barlow?”
“Ask me something easy, Aunt Betty. We found him alone on the mountain, half scared to death. He won’t talk. He’s been hysterical all the way back. Perhaps after a good night’s rest he will be able to tell us who he is and where he came from.”