It was almost dark when they reached the valley, and turned south along a sandy road with the big black wall of Cannon seeming to tower over them. It grew quite dark while they were still tramping.
“Hope you know your way, Mr. Scout Master,” said Peanut, who had ceased to run on ahead.
“Half a mile more,” Mr. Rogers laughed.
Presently they heard a brook, and a moment later stood on a bridge. The brook was evidently coming down from that great black bulk of Cannon to the left, which lifted its dome up to the stars.
“Halt!” Mr. Rogers cried. “Here’s Copper Mine Brook.”
He led the way through the fence side of the brook, and two minutes later the party stood in a pine grove, carpeted with soft needles.
“Camp!” said the Scout Master. “Art, you and the rest get a fire going. Take Lou’s lantern and find some stones. There are plenty right in the bed of the brook—nothing but. Peanut, come with me.”
The Scout Master led Peanut out of the grove to the south, and up over a pasture knoll a few hundred feet. At the top of the knoll they saw a white house below them, a big barn, and a cottage. Descending quickly, Mr. Rogers led Peanut through the wood-shed, as if it were his own house, and knocked at the kitchen door.
As the Scout Master and Peanut entered, a man and a little boy arose, the man’s face expressing first astonishment and then joyous welcome.
“Well, of all things!” he cried. “Did you drop out of the sky?”