“I believe we are getting close to Pasaje now,” announced the old man, as he led the way around the winding Apurimac River.
Notwithstanding this, they traveled all that day without coming to the town. Camp was made at a clearing near the stream, supper was prepared, and then all retired, knowing that the following day would witness their coming to their destination.
Early the next morning the young men saw something that thrilled them with delight. They had been breaking camp and were almost ready to resume the tramp when suddenly their keen ears caught the sound of a motor. Looking up, they plainly made out an airplane in the sky above them.
“That’s Karl!” cried Joe joyously. “I wouldn’t be afraid to bet anything that it is.”
“I sure hope you’re right,” came from Bob. “Gee! Won’t it be swell to see him again?”
“Of course there’s a chance that he won’t see us,” said the other boy. “But I believe he will. He’ll be looking around for us closely. Maybe that’s why he’s here now.”
Bob started, as an ominous thought struck him.
“Do you suppose anything’s happened—to our dads, I mean?” he asked in a tense voice.
Joe’s face darkened.
“I—I hadn’t thought of that,” he replied solemnly.