“According to your friend. Tiny, we’ve come a little too far to the east so I guess we’d better bear a bit toward the west,” Bob said when they were once more on the earth.
Until nearly noon they trudged on without stopping. Then, coming to a small brook, they decided to pause for an hour’s rest and to eat their dinner. Jack succeeded in catching half a dozen trout, and risking a small fire, they fried them with the last of their bacon.
“There, we’re cleaned out,” Jack declared as the last morsel slipped down his throat.
Shortly after four o’clock, as good luck would have it, they struck the lake and an hour later were back at the camp. They went to bed shortly after eating their supper both being thoroughly tired out with their long tramp.
None of the three men showed up at the camp that night or the following day, a fact which rather surprised them.
“We’ll wait over tomorrow which is Sunday and get an early start Monday morning,” Bob planned as they were eating breakfast. “If we started right off the proprietor here might suspect something. Not that I think he is mixed up in the business but you never can tell and the only safe bet is to suspect everyone till you know he is innocent.”
They thoroughly enjoyed the two days’ rest and early Monday morning, well supplied with provisions, they again hit the trail. The first day out they made rapid progress since they were not obliged to look for signs, and by ten o’clock they reached the spot where they had spent the night on their former trip. Bob half expected to see the mysterious cabin as they approached the place but there was no sign of it.
“Guess it don’t appear twice in the same place,” he said.
“What don’t?”
“That cabin with wings.”