It was about two weeks after he had become the owner of Ruddy that Rick went, one day, wandering in the woods on the other side of Silver Lake. It was Saturday, when there was no school, and Chot had told Rick he would meet him in the patch of forest. The boys were going to pretend they were hunters, with sticks for guns, and Ruddy for their hunting dog. Ruddy was real, of course, but the guns were make believe.
Rick had been several times to the woods, but he had never gone very far into their somewhat dark depths. To-day, when he had not met Chot soon after getting among the trees, Rick walked on and on, and, the first thing he knew he could see nothing around him but the thick trunks and tangled bushes. All the houses were out of sight, and he could not even find the road, or path, by which he had come in.
"Chot! Chot! Where are you?" cried Rick. "Where are you?"
But the boy he had expected to meet in the woods was not there. Later Rick learned that his chum had been sent on an errand by his mother, and so did not get to the woods at all that day.
"I guess I'd better go back home," said Rick to himself, as he saw how late it was getting. "It'll soon be night. Come on, Ruddy!"
The dog, who was nosing among the leaves under a fallen log, sprang away at his master's voice and trotted along behind Rick.
"We're going home!" Rick said.
"Bow wow!" answered Ruddy, which was as much as to say: "That suits me!"
But, somehow or other, as Rick walked along, he did not seem to be getting any nearer home. The woods had a strange look, and, as he glanced about, a great fear came to him.