"Well, that is a sure-enough sermon and a pretty good one, too," said MacLester, quite soberly. "We'll sing something, and it will be the same as going to church, almost."
Dave liked singing at any time, it may be remarked parenthetically, and his bass and Paul's tenor did make the vocal efforts of the quartette very pleasing. So now they sang "America," "Lead, Kindly Light," "The Old Oaken Bucket," "Onward, Christian Soldiers," and "Tenting on the Old Camp Ground." And although it must be admitted that their selections were of wide variety, they were all full of the spirit of love, thanksgiving and kindness and certainly not the slightest irreverence was intended if any there was.
"No, sir! We'll sing no more till the dishes are washed and the camp, to say nothing of ourselves, put in some kind of order," announced Billy Worth in answer to Dave's, "What else do we all know?" He began a rapid collection of the tin plates, cups and the like, but suddenly paused.
"Automobile!" cried Paul at the same instant.
All four boys rushed to an extreme point of the ledge, which commanded a partial view of the public road. Again the horn of a car sounded and they were just in time to see a heavy roadster, laden with traps and baggage and three lads of their own age as passengers, sweep over the bridge and, more slowly, up the stiff rise beyond.
"Pickton and Gaines and Perth!" cried Worth in astonishment. "And—"
"What do you know about that?" demanded Mr. Paul Jones in similar tones; and again he said, "What do you know about that?"—not, apparently, because he had reason to suppose that any of his friends had information pertaining especially to the Chosen Trio, or even because he expected to gain intelligence of any description. Perhaps he really looked for no answer to his inquiry. (In which case it would be difficult to say just why he made it.) At any rate he received none.
"Well, sir, I never thought they'd have the gumption to carry out their scheme of following after us," was Phil's comment. "If they only knew how close they were just a minute ago!"
"Wouldn't make much difference," observed MacLester, dryly. "They'll locate us now, but if we keep our wits about us they won't locate anything else."
"Nothing of the kind!" Worth ejaculated. "Their hustling by so fast is good enough evidence that they think we are still on ahead somewhere. They'll never think of this woods, but likely only of the races."