“Then we’ll have a nice wet night!” Brent said, optimistically. Rivers looked back and grinned. He was going to enjoy the evening’s adventure, no matter what the weather.
Up on the second slope, the going was difficult. Tom, of course, was keeping ahead and watching the ground with a keen eye. A few drops of rain touched my cheek lightly, then a zigzag flash of lightning raced across the heavens.
“Let ’er rain,” Brent said, defiantly. “See if I care!”
We were pretty well clothed, so it didn’t make much difference except that the premature darkness would impede our progress.
“Better gather a little wood, fellows,” Tom said. “We may need it if we get stuck up here until morning.”
“That’s the stuff, Tommy,” Brent said. “Always looking out for a rainy day.”
It was raining in earnest at about eight o’clock, but we were deep in the forest and the thickly grown trees protected us from the storm. Tom and Rivers were lighting the way with two powerful searchlights. The tracks were still to be seen.
“I wonder if Tom sees the other tracks?” I asked Brent, in an undertone.
“I think so,” Brent replied.
“The tracks are turning again, boys!” Tom said softly. “I think out of these woods and around the cleft.”