"Oh! well," Jud went on to say, "what would be the use of tantalizing the poor chaps? Hear 'em disputing right now whether that shining thing they see far away in the distance is the brass hand on the top of the church steeple in Stanhope, or the wind vane on the court house cupola? Anyhow, it stands for Stanhope; and if they were where they could stare out yonder by the hour some of 'em would skip before another night, I'm afraid."
"And you're just right, old fellow," Paul remarked. "I'm glad you noticed that sign, for we'd hate to have any desertions, now that we've made such a great start. But your other guess was away off. I haven't the slightest idea of holding over here."
"Then the road——" began Jud.
"Makes a bend just beyond," Paul broke in with, "and goes no further up that way. This is the last peep any of us are likely to have of far-away Stanhope till we come out again on the way home."
"That's all right, then. Now that you mention it, I can see how the road does take a turn a little way along. What do you suppose we're apt to strike there, Paul? I'm more than anxious to get wise."
But the acting scoutmaster only shrugged his shoulders.
"You really don't know, then?" continued Jud.
"Only what I've heard. Some say there's a fine lake back here a few miles. And that's what I'm hoping to strike, for a spot to camp," returned Paul.
"Well, I've heard that same thing," said Jud, slowly, "but never more than half believed it. Just as like as not we'll find it only a duck pond. But a camp always seems more like the real thing if it's only near water."