“It 'll be pretty wet. Will you wait while I get my boots? My rheumatism's been pretty bad this year—”
“Go back, then. I can't wait for you.”
And with this, Beveridge pushed off down the stream. Van Deelen, after a moment's hesitation, followed. They met the other party just above the barn.
“See anything?” asked Dick.
“Yes. He has gone down in a boat.” Beveridge turned to the farmer. “Does the creek go on far in this direction?”
“No, it turns off south pretty soon.”
“Would it take him anywhere especial?”
“No—just into the woods.”
“No houses south of here?”
“Not for a long way.”