So down the cliff they scrambled; then began to wander around amidst the trees, gradually working their way toward the western end of the island.
"Gee! Where can he be, I wonder?" said Sam. "We can't get much further."
"Hello! Look at this," remarked Sanders, presently. "Pertaters."
He pointed to the ground.
"Jiminy! A regular trail of 'em," put in Sam.
"Maybe old Pressed Biscuits is going ter start a patch."
"Wonder how in the dickens they came here, anyway?" mused Tom.
"Give it up," said Sanders. "All I know is how some of 'em is a-goin' ter leave."
Stooping over, he gathered a pocketful.
"For goodness' sake—there's Neil now!" exclaimed Sam, suddenly.