"Never mind," advised Betty. "The snow on the ground will make it light, and we can't miss the river. We'll be all right."
Darkness did not bring them in sight of their camp, and they were beginning to lose heart, when Will cried:
"I see a light! It's Franklin's cabin. We're at camp! We're all right now!"
"Are you sure?" asked Grace.
"Certainly. I knew we were near it some time ago."
He gave a hail, which was answered, and soon the young people heard the welcome call of Mr. Franklin, who demanded to know where they had been, and what had happened.
"There's a light in our cabin!" exclaimed Will, as he saw the gleam in the window. "Who's there, Mr. Franklin?"
"A friend of yours—he says."
"A friend of ours!" exclaimed Allen. "Is it Mr. Jallow, masquerading under that name, and trying to get possession of this land as well as the other valuable strip?"
"No, it isn't Jallow," replied Mr. Franklin. "I know him. This is a young fellow you've been expecting, he says. He come up in a hired rig from the village. Blackstone—Blackrock—some such name as that he give."