The boys were up at dawn. Not an article had the marauders left but the two water canteens which had fortunately been left hanging from the low branches of a pine. It was useless to look for more—there was nothing more to be found.
"Anyway," laughed Ned, "it leaves us in light marching order and we can make better time. I'm glad we had a good supper."
As no breakfast was in sight the two boys filled the water bottles at the creek in the valley, and at five o'clock, taking their bearings due east, Ned and Alan struck upwards through the pine woods. It was a not unpleasant climb while the boys were fresh, but as the slope grew more precipitous the work began to tell. At one o'clock the crest was reached.
"How would you like a piece of broiled bacon, some pancakes and a cup of coffee, Ned?" asked Alan as they paused to rest.
"In the middle of the day and on the top of a mountain I always prefer plain water," laughed Ned in reply. "Here's to you!"
With a big drink from the lukewarm canteens the boys did not pause long.
"To-night," continued Ned, "we ought to sleep high up in the foothills over there."
With that inspiration the sore-footed and jaded lads made good time going down the slope. Then another rivulet was encountered, in which they bathed and by which they rested a spell. Alan would have been glad to pass the night here, but Ned urged him on, and as night fell again the hungry, exhausted boys found themselves far up on the new slope. Then they slept again, restlessly and on the rocky ground, for they had abandoned their blankets.
The boys did not wait for daylight. In the half dawn they were afoot.
"Take another hitch in your belt, chum, and don't think of the Placida." laughed Ned. "We'll make it all right, somehow."