“We didn’t see any houses in all the distance we came,” said Walter, “and it is getting so late now we may have to appeal to a farmer to drive us back. I say go ahead, even if the direction seems to be wrong. We may reach a house this way.”
“I guess you’re right,” admitted Cora, “though it seems illogical to go deliberately away from, instead of toward, our camp.”
“Perhaps it isn’t called Camp Surprise for nothing,” suggested Hazel.
“What do you mean?” asked her brother.
“I mean it may surprise us by appearing when and where we least expect it.”
“You always were a hopeful child,” laughed Paul. His sister blushed. “You believed in Santa Claus long after I had detected our respected parents sneaking down the back stairs with the presents,” he continued. “Hope on, foolish one.”
“She may be right at that,” said Jack, championing Hazel’s cause. “If the sun insists on appearing where we think it oughtn’t to be the camp may take a notion to do the same thing. Come on! Forward!”
A little anxious, they kept on, rather tired, but not greatly discouraged. Youthful hearts are not made for discouragement, fortunately.
“Anything left to eat?” asked Jack after a bit, when the path seemed to be shifting somewhat toward the east.
“A little,” announced Walter, who was carrying the basket. “But you can’t have any.”