Mike pointed to the patch. “Take a look at that,” he said.
Sandy walked over and picked it up. “It’s a piece of cloth,” he said.
“It’s more than that,” Mike said seriously. “It belongs to Joe’s shirt.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Don’t you recognize the pattern? Big black stripes over the red, with little yellow lines running through it.”
Sandy nodded. “It’s Joe’s all right. What do we do now?”
“Let’s get this strap fixed and tell Hank and Dad.”
“It looks to me,” Sandy mused as he glanced over the terrain, “as if Joe broke away from the trail right about here.”
“What makes you say that?” Mike was busy tying a knot in his broken strap.
“Look where the piece fell. I think he climbed up here and tore his shirt doing it. Maybe we ought to do a little exploring on our own.”