Rufe jumped down from the wagon, and saw by the light of the lantern the imperfect and yet peculiar marks of Snowfoot's rather smooth-worn shoes, and of the narrow wheel-tires.
"It is a game of his to mislead us," said Rufe. "I believe if we follow him on to where this by-road crosses the main road, we shall find he has there turned off toward the city."
"Go ahead, Lion; find Snowfoot!" cried Jack, and jumped into the wagon with Rufe.
They got on as fast as they could; but the pursuit was necessarily slow, for not only was the mare a creature of very indifferent speed, but the boys found it useful to stop every now and then and examine the tracks by the light of the lantern.
"The dog is right; and we are right so far, sure!" said Jack, after they had proceeded about half a mile in this way. "Slow and sure is our policy. We've all the fall before us, Rufe; and we'll overhaul your pretty cousin, unless something breaks. Now, drive straight on to the main road, and we'll see what we can discover there."
To the surprise of both again, the fugitive, instead of turning cityward, kept the northerly road.
"He is cunning," said Rufe. "He knows Chicago is the first place where one would be apt to look for him; and, besides, I think he is getting too well known in Chicago."
"He is bound for Wisconsin," cried Jack. "Whip along. This road passes through the timber, and brings us to the river again; we shall soon find settlements, where we can inquire for our game."
"If you can speak Dutch, and if it wasn't too late when Rad passed through," Rufe replied. "There is a colony of meinheers up here; they go to bed a little after sundown."
As they drove on from the crossing, Jack said, "That left-hand road goes to North Mills. But I sha'n't see North Mills to-night, nor for a good many nights, I'm afraid."