"What's that?" he heard a voice cry out.
"Nothin' but a buzzard," another voice replied.
Jack ran for a hundred yards or more before he stopped to listen. He could hear the rapid beat of hoofs not far off, but he quickly perceived that they were getting farther and farther away. So, with a prayer of thankfulness in his heart, he started on again.
"Bob!" He did not dare speak the word very loudly, but he was sure that if he had kept the right direction, his brother should be close at hand.
But there was no reply and he walked a bit further straining his eyes in an effort to pierce the darkness.
"Bob!" Again there was no answer and he began to fear that he had gotten off the course.
Then, a moment later, he saw a short distance ahead a tiny point of light and hastened toward it and in another moment the brothers were in each other's arms.
"Talk about close calls," Jack whispered.
"You said it," Bob agreed.
"I sure thought I was a gone gosling."