"'Bout half mile, I reckons," came the reply, without hesitation.
"The air is from that quarter too, I notice; and of course you take that into consideration when you figure on the distance?"
"Oh! yes, I know," nodded Tony.
"But half a mile—he ought to have been back before now. We'll wait a little while longer, and then if he don't show up I guess we'll just have to go after him."
Tony did not reply; but judging from the little smile that crossed his face, it was evident that the swamp boy felt pretty confident they would have to take up the hunt. He had sized Larry up pretty readily as a failure in woodcraft, and a sure enough tenderfoot of the worst type.
"No signs of him yet," announced Phil after a bit, rising to his feet; while a look of growing concern began to come upon his face. "I was silly to let him take the risk. Ought to have known Larry would bungle it, if there was half a chance. And now, Tony, what had we better do, follow his tracks, or head straight in the direction that shot came from."
"Follow trail," the other answered promptly.
"You are sure we will be able to keep on it, all right?" continued Phil.
"I think so," replied the swamp boy, with a smile of assurance; as though he looked upon such a test as of little moment; for what had he been learning all of his life if not to accomplish just such tasks?
"All right then; let's get busy."