“Never met him,” said Townsend.
“Gee whiz, if you were my unknown pal up at Memorial Cabin, I’d teach you some things this summer, I would. Suppose you got lost in the night away, way far away from home or—or—Bennett’s Confectionery or any place. What would you do? You’d sit down and get scared, I bet, and you’d get more scared when you got hungry. All the while right around you there might be lots and lots and lots of cones—pi—”
“Ice cream cones?” asked Townsend.
“No, pine cones, but you can eat the resin out of them. And besides, do you know when you keep going around and around and around in a circle?”
“When I’m on a merry-go-round?” ventured Townsend.
“No, when you’re lost. That’s why you always get back to the same place, see? So the way to do is to stay where you are and don’t get scared and send up a smoke signal only if the stars are out then you’re all right. If you haven’t got any matches you just—”
“Strike a resource on the sole of your shoe and get a light that way,” said Townsend. “Only it’s better to follow the consolations. Look, Kid, there’s the river.”
CHAPTER XXX
A SURPRISE
The lordly Hudson looked inviting after their two days and a half on land. It seemed to call and beckon the way-worn travellers to its glinting expanse. Cars might go wrong, engines lie down, gates refuse to work, but the quiet river hurried on, on, on, between its fair green hills forever. Seeing it as they did then, it seemed removed from all the commonplace and sordid troubles of the road. It was so quiet. The few boats upon it made no noise. It had a solemn dignity that the grandest high-road knows not.