“Perhaps you’ve struck it, Jack.  Anyway, we are on the road here, and had better push straight along to the pond first.”

“Right enough,” uttered Bobolink, as he broke through a cordon of brush, and jumped out on the highway, though it might be only an apology for a road after all, being scantily used; “and after that experience it’s going to be something big that drags me into the woods again.”

The little group stood there for a minute to recover their wind, which had been more or less exhausted in the last desperate push through the dark woods.

“Ready to move on, fellows?” demanded Paul, who had apparently not changed his mind, and was more than ever bent on covering the last lap lying between themselves and the pond.

Jack and Wallace fell in on either side, and the march was begun.  Since the other pair did not wish to be left behind, they were forced to accompany themselves to the movements of the trio.

Thus they walked perhaps a full hundred yards along the winding road, with the stars showing overhead, and the black mysterious woods flanking them on either side.

The shouts had apparently ceased; at least none had been heard since the five lads reached open territory.

Again it was Bobolink who caught a sound of some sort.

“Tell me again I’m hearing owls, will you, fellows?  If that ain’t a gasoline wagon climbing a hill ahead there I’m off my guess,” he whispered.

“Chug! chug!” came the plain sound, as the air current veered more toward the point toward which they were heading.

“I know that hill,” Paul observed, as if talking to himself; “it’s just this side of the mill pond.  That means the car is coming this way.  The two gentlemen are separating themselves from their dear friend, Solus Smithers.  Why, I wonder?  Would Mr. Pender have anything to do with it?”

“Wow! did you see that?” gasped Bobolink, proving that his plaint about his eyes closing up could hardly be based on solid ground.

“Somebody struck a match, and it went out!  Whoever it is, he’s on the road just ahead of us, fellows!” whispered Jack.

“Back up into the scrub here.  Quick! for perhaps he’s got another match!” said Paul, following up his words by instant action.

They managed to cower down in the brush, though Bobolink muttered something to the effect that he had received another jab in the neighborhood of his wretched eyes.

“Look! he’s done it, Paul, just as you said he would!” whispered Jack.

“Yes, he’s shielding it from the breeze till it gets strong.  There—­well, what d’ye think of that, fellers?” gasped William.

“It’s Ted!” muttered Wallace, staring hard at the figure that seemed to be huddled up on the road a little distance away.

“What do you suppose the silly goose is doing on his knees?” came from Jack.

“He’s found something, and he’s looking at it.  See, now he’s managed to open it up.  Seems to me like a leather bag, boys,” Wallace managed to wedge in with.