se. Probably this was accomplished before the rains began.

In consequence the tracks, growing more and more imperceptible, finally
vanished entirely.

"I bane tired," and Nels sat down, shaking his great head discouragingly.

"Gee whiz!" gurgled Jones. "I almost wish I was back in Staretta in my
little bed 'stead of way out here where I don't even know where I am or
how I'll get out again."

But Chip was made of sterner stuff. Seeing his companions were in the
dumps, he perked up and sniffed the night air expectantly.

"What's the use of gittin' discouraged? Mornin' 'll soon be here. We kin
see that fire yet, can't we? Les' go back and git some sleep."

"No use of dat." This from Nels. "It bane very late now. We git fire here.
Sleep a bit."

But it was concluded not to make a fire, as it might give the man they
were hunting a clue as to where they were. So the three prepared to pass
a comfortless night. Fortunately it did not rain any more and, after a
fashion, they managed to endure the rest of the night. At last, cool and
cheerless, the dawn came, and with the first glimmer the three set out
along the ridge. Nels kept to the summit, while the boys patrolled the
sides, keeping an eye out amid the softer mud and ashes for any sign of
foot tracks.

A mile or more might have been traversed thus when, at a shout from Chip,
the others hastened to him and saw that the boy had detected distinct foot
tracks leading away towards the east.

"Fresh ones too," said Paul, pointing. "And--look there. Criminy! I'm
going to take a look inside that hollow log."

He darted towards a rusty looking tree trunk over which the fire had
swept, leaving naught but the solid wood cylinder of dead beech. Most of
the shrivelled bark, moss and dead leaves were reduced to ashes. These
the rain had made into a moist, blackish gray mush. At the larger end
were plain signs as if some heavy body had crawled inside and perhaps out
again. Nels, more up to woods lore, looked, sniffed, fingered clumsily,
then delivered himself.

"Murkee, he bane sleep here yoost li'l whiles. Git oop soon. He bane gone
a'retty--yuss!"

"Gone--yes!" exclaimed Paul. "But where did he go? How did he get away
so all-fired soon--hey?"

Here another call from Chip solved the question. Not far below the hollow
log began a tiny slough which presently widened out until footprints were
discernible in the mushy tussocks of what had before been a fringe of
marsh-grass.