Without seeing the boys, the file swept on and vanished around another bend. Matt drew a long breath of relief.
"We're out of that mess, Dick," he murmured, getting up and stepping back into the path. "I guess we've settled all doubts about Cassidy and Fingal. Fingal's here, and I'll bet something handsome Cassidy can't be very far off."
"Cassidy's trying to down us," growled Dick, "and that's as plain as the nose on your face. The old Sou'wegian! He ought to be trussed up at a grating and pounded with the 'cat' for this. I never thought it of the old sorehead! Where do you suppose that pack is going?"
"They're looking for the Grampus, I guess."
Dick chuckled.
"And the old Grampus is ten feet under water! If Gaines is next to his job, he's fixed things so they won't be able to see even the periscope ball."
"Trust Gaines to do everything possible. I don't think the submarine is in any particular danger, but we couldn't help her any if she was. We'll keep on and see where this trouble road lands us."
"Aye, aye, old ship! Luck seems to be on our side, so far, and here's hoping that it will stay with us."
Matt once more took the lead and set the pace. The ground they were covering had a slight inclination upward, and the path continued to wriggle, serpent fashion, through the dense growth of timber.
It was the almost impenetrable screen of the woods that suddenly plunged the boys into difficulties. Rounding an abrupt turn, beyond which it was impossible to see because of the dense foliage, Matt and Dick plunged recklessly into full view of an encampment. It was a large encampment, too, and pitched in the midst of a big clearing. The place was not a hundred yards off, and Matt, pulling himself short up, got a glimpse of black soldiers lolling and smoking under rough canvas shelters.