“So it is.”
Tim held the compass away from himself and the needle settled down.
By now they must have passed the town. They decided to head straight north.
They crossed the west branch of the railroad and found the track that would take them closest to the North Carolina line.
Tim struck another match and they looked at the map. There were very few towns along their route between Alston and a place called Unionville forty miles or so to the north.
They walked along the track for two or three miles, and as the land began to rise Tim said, “Let’s take a chance and roast a couple of ears of corn.”
Their fire kindled well. Red gazed into the flames. “At least we aren’t in jail.”
“The people in the country we have to cross must all know about us by now. And most of them are hunters. They’d just as soon track a man as a coon.”
They took off their boots and rested their feet on a dry log. They held the boots near the fire as they waited for the flames to flicker low.
Tim looked at the compass and studied the map.