The boys sat down on the grass to consider their position.

"Well, I call it beastly rot," grumbled Dudley, thoroughly cross; "if
that's his donkey I don't believe old Roger's is on the hills at all. It
must have been this one that somebody saw, and now I come to think of it
Roger's has a black stripe down her back, and this one hadn't!"

"I'm so awfully tired," said Roy, disconsolately; "we've done no good as
usual. I don't believe we ever shall do any one any good!"

When Roy's spirits sank it was a bad case, and for some minutes there
was silence between them. Then feeling they must make the best of it
they scrambled to their feet and plodded slowly on in the direction of
home. A heavy mist was falling by this time, and dusk was setting in.
Roy began to cough, and at last in despair Dudley cried out, "I do
believe we're lost; I don't know where the path is, and I'm sure this
isn't the way we came!"

"Well," said Roy, gasping as he spoke; "I'm afraid this old mist is
getting into my chest, and I can't go very fast when my breath gets
short. What shall we do? Can you shout--p'raps that man with the donkey
might hear us."

Dudley shouted and shouted till he was hoarse, and then the little
fellows trudged wearily on.

"You see," said Roy, bravely; "we must get somewhere if we go straight
on."