They had not proceeded very far in this manner, however, when Blazer changed his course, darting in amongst the undergrowth.
The Squire pulled up.
"Now, Blazer, old boy," said he, "that isn't just the sort of place an old gentleman finds convenient to scramble through. What do you want with it?"
But the dog was evidently in real earnest. There was no mistake about that. He trotted on a little way ahead, then turned and leapt and barked, and came bounding back, jumping round the Squire, and all but beckoning him to come.
"What a pity he can't speak!" exclaimed Hal, looking up into his grandfather's face, as if to read his thoughts.
"We must contrive to go with him somehow, that's certain," returned the Squire, stopping to consider; "or, at least, I must. He has found something, and he wants to show it us. Hal, you wait here with Maggie; no, stay! Let Maggie come with me, in case I want a messenger."
And putting one shoulder to the hazel bushes, to Blazer's infinite delight, the old gentleman commenced pushing his way in amongst them, Maggie following close upon his heels.
A shade of disappointment came over Hal's face. This was how he had to feel his affliction every now and then. But Hal was not a boy to stop at disappointment. He only stood still a minute or so; then turning, set off down the track again, to search for an opening by which to reach the spot whither the dog was leading them—sure, at all events, of knowing by his barks the direction that they took.
He had but just lighted on a cross track when the barking ceased. They must have reached the place.
Hal stopped to listen just an instant, then set forward, breathing fast, and flushing with his exertions to lose no time, and hoping that as Blazer had led them off in a slanting direction, this track, which crossed the cartway at right angles, would converge with their path.