ere they would come upon the old mill pond,
nestling in the valley. The fact caused him to remember his friend Mr.
Pender; to once more mentally see that red motor with the khaki-colored
top; and to picture the two strangers who had asked him so many
questions.

Was this really an accident, their being drawn out toward the farm of the
unneighborly Sol Smithers; or might it turn out to be the working of
destiny?

He was aroused by a call that he had been expecting to hear for some time
now.

One of the scouts felt forced to admit that he was "all in." They had
done manly work to keep up the tramp all this time, being but boys at
best.

It meant that camp must be made, and the balance of the night spent there
in the woods, waiting for day to come to renew their search.

Poor little Willie was destined then to pass still more hours, surrounded
by the terrors of the black and unknown forest. But probably by this time
he must be so exhausted through his unusual exertions that he was dead to
the world in sleep; so it would not matter very much.

Soon all was bustle as the fourteen lads began to make ready to spend a
time in open camp. The sound of hatchets made pleasant music, as branches
were cut, and beds made close to the fire that had been started.

Some of the smaller lads were so utterly exhausted that they just dropped
to the ground, and went to sleep. Paul and Jack passed around to see that
these wornout fellows did not lie too near the blaze; and that they were
fairly comfortable.

In an hour's time it seemed as though every one were taking solid comfort
after such rude fashion as could be devised. One of the boys had brought
his camera along, keen to secure novel effects; and without warning he
set off a flash that gave him a picture of the slumbering heroes on their
lowly beds, that would be ever afterwards treasured as invaluable.

At the brilliant illumination several sat up, and one even gave a cry of
alarm, thinking perhaps that lightning had struck a tree close by; but
with the coming of darkness again they settled back.

But Paul could not sleep. He was only waiting until some of the more
restless souls quieted down. Then he and Jack, together with Wallace,
meant to again tackle the job of seeking for further imprints of those
worn little shoes among the dead leaves, and in the soft soil under the
giant trees.

Somehow Paul believed that the hunt was bound to carry them to the very
door of that