CHAPTER THE LAST
(THANK GOODNESS)
IT HASN’T GOT ANY NAME
Now that was the last adventure that we had that day. But we’ve had a lot since then. We picked our way up through the woods on the side of the ridge, using our compass, because we couldn’t see far ahead. It was getting dark and the woods were awful still. Every time a twig cracked under us it seemed to make a loud noise. There were crickets chirping too. It kind of reminded me of Temple Camp after supper. We kept straight west because we knew that was where the tree was. I guess we all got sort of excited as we came up near to the top of the ridge.
I said, “I’m glad the last part of our hike is through the woods. Maybe we had a lot of fun in Bridgeboro and in Little Valley, but the woods for me.”
Pretty soon we came out into the open and there in the dusk stood the great big tree all by itself. It seemed awful solemn like.
Westy said, “Look! Away off there in the east. See?”
Oh, boy! Away, way, way off across the country we had come through was like a shaft of dust sticking right up into the sky. It was the searchlight on the Bridgeboro fire-house.
“Let’s start a good big fire,” I said, “so our folks will know we’re all right. Then we’ll start home.”