"We'll soon settle that matter," observed Frank, once more making a start.
They did not have far to go, for the half-concealed and wholly overgrown trail reached the lake close to the wooded cape. Perhaps long before, when loggers had a camp in that region while felling the virgin growth of forest, the point of land was a favorite camp with them. That would account for the trail, and why it had grown up in recent years.
Once on the ground, they began to look earnestly for signs of the abandoned cabin which it was hoped would afford them shelter during their outing. For some little time this search bore no fruit, and Will was beginning to feel quite disconsolate.
"Looks to me as if it was going to be our job to start a brush shanty that will give us shelter for a couple of nights till we can put up a more substantial affair," he told Bluff, who happened to be close to him, looking to the right and to the left in a vain attempt to be the first one to make a pleasant discovery.
Will had hardly spoken when they heard a call from Jerry.
"I might have known it was no good trying to beat his sharp eyes out," grumbled Bluff, as though really disappointed because he had failed to locate the cabin.
"What difference does it make who turns the trick?" ventured Will, looking happy again; "so long as it's done. The end and not the means is what counts. Hello! Jerry, have you struck pay dirt?"
"Here it is!" came the triumphant answer, and the others hurried forward, to discover the log structure partly concealed from view by branches of trees, vines, moss, and every sort of green growth.
"No wonder we couldn't see it easily," expostulated Bluff; "everybody doesn't happen to have microscopic eyes like Jerry here. I warrant you now I passed within thirty feet of this spot several times, and never tumbled to what was so close by."
"One of the first things we'll do, fellows," suggested Frank, "will be to get busy and cut down a lot of this stuff that keeps us from having a fine outlook over the bay and the big lake beyond."