Thus they walked perhaps a full hundred yards along the winding road, with the stars showing overhead, and the black mysterious woods flanking them on either side.
The shouts had apparently ceased; at least none had been heard since the five lads reached open territory.
Again it was Bobolink who caught a sound of some sort.
"Tell me again I'm hearing owls, will you, fellows? If that ain't a gasoline wagon climbing a hill ahead there I'm off my guess," he whispered.
"Chug! chug!" came the plain sound, as the air current veered more toward the point toward which they were heading.
"I know that hill," Paul observed, as if talking to himself; "it's just this side of the mill pond. That means the car is coming this way. The two gentlemen are separating themselves from their dear friend, Solus Smithers. Why, I wonder? Would Mr. Pender have anything to do with it?"
"Wow! did you see that?" gasped Bobolink, proving that his plaint about his eyes closing up could hardly be based on solid ground.
"Somebody struck a match, and it went out! Whoever it is, he's on the road just ahead of us, fellows!" whispered Jack.
"Back up into the scrub here. Quick! for perhaps he's got another match!" said Paul, following up his words by instant action.
They managed to cower down in the brush, though Bobolink muttered something to the effect that he had received another jab in the neighborhood of his wretched eyes.