“I reckon now this might be your old trail,” mentioned Wee Willie, as he pointed indifferently down at his feet.
Elmer agreed with him, for the “signs” were all there. And so without wasting any time in argument they started off in single file, with Perk fetching up the rear.
Already the sun was low down, and night could not be far distant. The trees up in this region were unusually tall, for the lumberman had not as yet attacked the eastern side of the Beaverkill.
“Say, let me tell you, it’s going to be some gloomy around here pretty soon,” observed the tall boy, after they had been tramping in this fashion for at least fifteen minutes, keeping up quite a lively pace.
Amos sighed, as though he might be carrying a little more than his share of boyish troubles himself; at which Elmer half turned his head to glance uneasily at his chum; doubtless wondering what it could be that of late was making the other seem so heavy-hearted.
They continued to plunge along, Elmer setting the pace. Already two of the four miles had been left behind them, a fact that Perk heard the leader state with much joy, though he only grunted in his peculiar way.
“Hope you don’t lose touch with this blinky old trail, Elmer,” suggested Wee Willie, apparently with a motive in view.
“That would be pretty tough on us, for a fact,” chuckled the other; “and as it’s getting to be something of a strain on my eyes to pick my way, I reckon it’s time we had a little artificial help.”
With that there immediately sprang into existence a glow from his electric flashlight that brightly illuminated the forest ahead.
“That’s the ticket!” ejaculated the relieved Perk as they continued to move along their way, winding in among the aisles of the tall timber, but in the main keeping toward the north.