“There’s one of two things to do,” said Don, in a voice that trembled with excitement.  “We do not know whether our trail crosses the others.  We must either go cautiously, or go fast in the hope that they don’t cross.  If we go fast we may get to the treasure first.”

“All right,” said Tim; “fast.  Let’s find that blaze.  If you get it, give a low whistle.”

They separated and worked among the trees.  A long time later, it seemed, Tim found the blaze.  It pointed north.  He whistled softly, cautiously.  A whistle answered him.  Don’s footsteps sounded frightfully loud in the stillness.

They started north as fast as they could go.  Three hundred feet on they found the second blaze.  They lost the third and had to retrace their steps before finding it.  The fourth was easy, but on the way after that they encountered a patch of dense undergrowth and a section of fallen trees.  Here they had to separate and search once more.  This time it was Don who found the mark.  Their watches said ten minutes of five.

“Let’s go on until almost dark,” Tim whispered.  There was a sound off on their right.  He clutched Don’s arm, and they stood like statues and listened, scarcely daring to breathe.  By and by they relaxed.

“Must have been a squirrel or something,” said Tim.  They advanced cautiously.

The fright had thrown them out of their reckoning.  They did not remember in which specific direction they had been heading.  After a while they had the uncomfortable feeling that they had gone on farther than the ordinary distance between blazes.

“Have to search,” said Don.

So they began again.  They worked at a tension, running when they could.  It did not take long to get out of sight of each other.

This time it was Tim who finally found the blaze.  He whistled—­no answer.  He whistled again—­still no answer.  He’d have to make a louder sound.  It was growing dusky, and he did not want to become separated from Don for the night.  He put his fingers between his lips.

He did not mean to whistle loudly but, in the quiet woods, his summons echoed shrilly.  His heart gave a frightened leap.  Gee!  Suppose anybody was near?

Don came crashing through the woods.  “For the love of Mike, Tim, why did you do that?” he asked sharply.

Tim bristled.  It was one thing for him to blame himself; it was another for Don to find fault.  “I wanted you to hear me,” he answered shortly.

“I did hear you!”

“Well, why didn’t you answer?”

“I thought I heard something else.  You’ll have every Eagle and Fox around us.”

“I’ll have every Eagle and Fox around us,” Tim thought.  “See! I’m the one who’s spoiling things.”

They started again.  Don was sorry he had spoken so hastily.  So far Tim had been a real partner.  He made up his mind that he’d think twice before he spoke sharply again.  You had to handle a fellow like Tim with gloves.