"Right," nodded Kiddie. "But that was a false scent. I didn't go far—not more'n a dozen yards—I came out on the same side and dried my feet."
"I saw where you did that," Rube went on. "It wasn't far from where you laid the three fir cones as a pointer, plain's a sign-post. Then you followed along by the creek to the tree where you hung up th' leaf from your pocket-book. From there you made it easy for me, comin' home in a bee-line, scatterin' clues right an' left."
"Well, Rube, I'll say this," declared Kiddie, "that you did remarkably well all through. There were not a great many clues that you failed to pick up. You missed some important ones, however, which makes it all the more surprisin' that you came back so quickly. We'll play that same game another time. It's good for us both. And now, I guess we'll just wash up an' make the camp clean for the night before goin' out in the canoe ter catch a fish or two, if it's not too late."
CHAPTER XII
A MOONLIGHT VISITOR
As a matter of fact, the fishing was only a pretext on Kiddie's part. They caught no fish whatever, and they were still in the middle of the lake when darkness came on.
Kiddie lingered yet longer, resting over his paddle and entertaining his companion with talk and stories and the singing of songs. Hardly noticed by Rube, he dipped the paddle and gradually turned the canoe round and round.
"Rube, old man," he said at length, "I've made up another scouting task for you. Find our landing place. Take us straight into it. You can't see it in this darkness, I know. You dunno where 'tis; but you've got ter navigate us into it, and without my help, see?"
Rube was not to be caught napping. He took the paddle in hand, looked up to the stars, and made for home as truly and unerringly as even Kiddie himself could have done.