They discussed this matter at length as they prepared a simple meal. Before they could decide on a change of route, however, they would need a new road map, and this Dick said he would get in the next town.
Soon they were under way again, there being no signs of Mr. Brockhurst in the neighborhood. He had probably made the best time to get out of sight; then he could take matters more leisurely.
"Though when he sees nothing but a road map in that envelope, marked 'legal papers,' he'll have a 'rare old fit,' as perhaps some of your English friends would say, Innis," and Paul smiled at his chum.
"Did you mark that road map envelope 'legal papers'?" asked Paul.
"Sure I did. I wanted to fool them. And the papers are marked 'road map,'" said Dick. "I just changed envelopes, see!"
"Then I've just thought of the best way to fool any more men your Uncle Ezra may set after us!" exclaimed Paul. "Listen, Dick. You remember that story of Edgar Allan Poe's—'The Purloined Letter'; don't you?"
"I think so—yes."
"What was it?" inquired Innis, who was not much of a reader.
"Why, Poe tells of some one who had a certain important letter which the police were after. This man was foxy, and knowing the police would search his rooms for it, he didn't hide it in any out-of-the-way place, such as the leg of a bed, or in a secret recess in the wall, for he knew the police would search there."
"Did they?" asked Innis.