“Sure,” agreed the smaller boy addressed. “And, Tony, I bet he did go that way. When I looked back afterward I remember I saw a boy lugging something heavy going up that road.”
“I didn’t see that that fellow had a bag,” argued the bigger boy. “But he might have hid it when he came down here.”
“Likely he did,” admitted Neale. “Anyway, we will go up that road through the woods and see.”
“Is his mother going to give him fits for those torn pants?” asked another of the group.
“She’ll be so glad to see him home again,” confessed Neale, “that he could tear every pair of pants he’s got and she wouldn’t say a word!”
He made his way up the bank to the car and reported.
“I don’t know where that woods-road leads to. I neglected to bring a map. But it looks as though we could get through it with the car. We’ll try, sha’n’t we?”
“Oh, do, Neale,” urged Agnes.
“I guess it is as good a lead as any,” observed Mr. Pinkney. “Somehow, I begin to feel as though the boy had got a good way off this time. Even this clue is almost twenty-four hours old.”
“He must have stayed somewhere last night,” cried Agnes suddenly. “If there is a house up there in the woods—or beyond—we can ask.”