“Well, I’m glad we’re out of that!” exclaimed Mr. Campbell when they were again on a broad highway. “And I think I’ll take a short cut I know of to get into Elmwood. We’ll stay there for the night.”
“Have you been this way before?” asked Rick.
“Oh, yes, once or twice, and I think I know a back road that will take us into Elmwood in much shorter time than by following the main trail. We’ll try it.”
He swung off after passing through the next small city and as darkness fell the boys and dog with Mr. Campbell were traveling along a fairly good, but evidently seldom-used, country highway.
“What do you think your Uncle Tod has for us to do out where he is, Rick?” asked Chot as the auto rolled along, not any too smoothly, for the road became rougher.
“I can’t seem to guess,” was the answer, “though I’ve tried a lot. It’s almost like the time he took me on the Sallie. I didn’t know what in the world he was up to until toward the end.”
“And he’s so particular about having Ruddy come,” went on Chot. “Why do you s’pose he wants the dog?”
“Well, Ruddy’s smart,” said Rick, a bit proudly, as you would have felt if you owned such a dog.
“I know that,” agreed Chot. “Oh, say, maybe he’s gone in for raising sheep—a lot of men out west do that—and maybe he wants Ruddy to help drive the sheep.”
“Maybe,” assented Rick. “But I don’t guess—if it was just sheep herding—that Uncle Tod would be in such a hurry and act so queer. It’s something else, and I hope we can help.”