“Oh, don’t fool,” said Roy. “Come on.”
“Wait a minute, fellows!” this from Dick. “Come to think of it, when we got out onto the road this afternoon there was a sign on the fence, don’t you remember?”
“Sure!” cried Chub. “‘Noble’s Chill and Fever Compound;’ we spoke of it! That’s easy; all we’ve got to do is to get back to the road and find the sign.”
“For all we know there may be one every fifty feet,” said Roy, pessimistically. “However, we’ll try it.”
Getting back to the road was no simple matter, though. The woods were pitch dark now, and the field beyond was not much lighter, while to make matters worse they crossed the latter where it was little better than a swamp, and at every step their shoes went squash, squash in the yielding turf. But they were soon across it and in the gloom of the farther woods.
“Courage, mon braves,” said Chub. “It is soon over.”
But Chub was wrong, for they stumbled on and on, through bushes and briars, and still no road appeared out of the darkness.
“This is funny,” panted Dick, pausing to disentangle himself from the affectionate embrace of a vine. “We ought to have reached the road long ago.”
“It is the enchanted forest,” replied Chub. “Have you never read of the enchanted forest?”
“We’ve been keeping too far to the right,” said Roy, thoughtfully. “Let’s try it off this way.”