“Perhaps.”
“Come on—this is luck.”
Ben hesitated for a moment. He did not like to leave the Dart. Still, it was safely secured, and scarcely liable to discovery in that remote and solitary place. He joined his companion, and they started in the direction of the light.
Bob was so eager and excited that he did not leave the bag behind, but kept possession of it, slinging it over one shoulder by the piece of flexible wire running through the handles.
The two journeyers did not note their environment particularly. They had several tumbles going down a sheer hilly descent. They encountered fallen trees and brambles threading a jungle-like maze. All the time, however, they kept the distant light in view as a beacon. This led to many turns and windings to evade obstructing objects.
“Whew!” ejaculated Bob at last, as they came to some kind of a stream. “We must have gone miles. I’m footsore and wringing wet with perspiration.”
“That light is across the river, and miles away yet,” said Ben.
“Well, we’ll line the stream and cross when we get nearer. We can’t miss reaching it now.”
They proceeded on this basis. Less than half a mile accomplished, however, both halted simultaneously with a shock.
“Gone!” cried Ben in consternation.