Then Dick bethought himself of a plan which offered some slight degree of hope, and starting up suddenly, said,—
"I ought to have done it before, an' it ain't too late now."
"Done what, Dick dear?"
"Gone out in the direction father took, and fired the rifle two or three times. It may be he has lost his bearings, and the report of the gun would be enough to let him know where we are."
"But you must not go now that it is dark, my boy. Suppose you should lose your way? Then what would become of Margie and me?"
"There's no danger of that, mother. I've been in the woods often enough to be able to take care of myself, surely."
"Your father would have said the same thing when he set out; but yet we know some accident must have befallen him."
"Let me go only a little way, mother."
"Of what avail would that be, my son? If the purpose is to discharge your rifle, hoping father may hear the report, why not do it here?"