“This path must lead somewhere!” exclaimed Mrs. Bonnell, as she and the girls carefully scattered the embers of the fire, and kicked damp earth on them to extinguish the brands. For they had adopted some of the tenets of the boy scouts, one of which is never to leave a burning camp fire to work damage.
“And if we keep on it long enough we must come to some place!” declared Alice. “Even if it’s only a cow-shed.”
“This does seem like a cow-path,” declared Natalie, “though it’s hard to tell what it is in the dusk.”
“What—what are we going to do after dark?” whispered Mabel.
“March along with this!” cried Mrs. Bonnell, flashing a small pocket electric lamp, operated by a dry battery. It contained a tungsten filament, and gave a glaring light, if it was limited as to area.
“Oh, you dear—to think of bringing that!” cried Natalie. “I won’t be afraid now.”
“Afraid—what is there to be afraid of?” insisted the Guardian, though it might be noted that she looked rather fearsomely back of her as she spoke.
No one answered her.
Once more they took up the march, as night slowly settled down. There would be an hour or more of rather dim daylight yet, for the days were long, but the clouds made it more gloomy than otherwise would have been the case.
“There is a house!” suddenly called Marie.