In twenty minutes they were at the manse clearing.
“Now,” said Don, pulling up, “where did you say you saw his track?”
“Just back of the house there, and round the barn, and then straight for the brule.”
The boys stood looking across the fallen timber toward the barn.
“There's Fido barking,” said Hughie. “I bet he's on the scent now.”
“Yes,” answered Don, “and there's your father, too.”
“Gimmini crickets! so it is,” said Hughie, slowly. “I don't think it's worth while going up there to get that track. Can't we get it just as well in the woods here?” There were always things to do about the house, and besides, the minister knew nothing of Hughie's familiarity with the gun, and hence would soon have put a stop to any such rash venture as bear-hunting.
The boys waited, listening to Fido, who was running back and forward between the brule and the house barking furiously. The minister seemed interested in Fido's manoeuvres, and followed him a little way.
“Man!” said Hughie, in a whisper, “perhaps he'll go and look for the gun himself. And Fido will find us, sure. I say, let's go.”
“Let's wait a minute,” said Don, “to see what direction Fido takes, and then we'll put our dogs on.”