Once Dr. Hume paused and pointed to a cleared space beyond. There, standing under a great pine tree looking at them with startled eyes were a doe and her young. In another instant they were gone, leaving the campers holding their breath.
In a little more than an hour they reached the end of the trail, where a foot bridge made of two logs took them over the turbulent little river. But no “Comet” stood waiting for them at the rendezvous with Ben at the wheel and Miss Campbell on the back seat. To be sure the road was twice as long, as the trail had wound around the side of the mountain for some five miles, but that was nothing to a motor car.
“Might as well sit down and wait,” suggested the doctor.
They seated themselves in a row on a log expecting every minute to see the familiar blue car loom into sight.
But the lagging moments dragged themselves into half an hour and still the “Comet” lingered.
“I think we’d better walk back,” said Billie, beginning to feel just a tinge of uneasiness.
“Perhaps it would be as well,” echoed the doctor. “They have had a breakdown, no doubt.”
The band of wayfarers feeling very weary after the rough walk along the river trail began their march back toward the lake.