"I wonder, Ruth," Mary Lee questioned her friend, "whether you could find your way back and get help. It's only about two miles from here."
"What will you do in the meantime?" Ruth replied. "I hate to leave you alone."
"I shall try to locate them. But I shall be always coming back to this point, so that you will know where to find me. See, I shall put this branch in the middle of the trail so that you will know."
Ruth hurried off. Mary Lee tied her handkerchief on a small branch of another tree so that there would be no mistake. She realized that Ruth would not be able to bring help in less than an hour and so decided she was going to study the number of trails within a half mile and follow the one that seemed the most likely.
A little further up the mountain she found a path that seemed almost as wide as the main trail and decided to follow it. She had gone but a little way when she noticed that it cut directly to her right and began to go down hill.
Now she hurried and began to call again. She received no answer but decided to continue on her way.
The woods became thicker. The thorns and trailing branches scratched her arms and her face but she was unmindful of this. She made sure, however, of her way back. She had no wish to join the lost.
She had cut into the woods about a mile by now and had ceased her calls. The woods were thick about her and almost inaccessible.
"I must turn back," she thought dejectedly. "They're not this way." Her dress was torn, her hair too, was not in its usual neat order.
"Letty, oh Letty," she called with a last forlorn hope.