"If they don't find our trail, Dick, where are you headed for?"
whispered Dave.

"For the road and home," laughed Dick. "Then, while they're trying
to figure out where we've gone, we fellows will be washing up
for supper."

"I'd like to hear Old Greg grumbling if the 'double' does throw
'em off the trail altogether," grinned Darrin. "Dick, I think
we've more than half a chance to get away."

"We have about four chances out of five of slipping away from
Greg's soldiers," predicted Prescott.

For ten minutes Dick and his two braves plodded on. There were,
as yet, no audible sounds of pursuit.

"We caught 'em, surely enough, that time," chuckled Tom. "Going
to hit for the road now, Dick?"

"We can't reach the road until our hour is up; we're bound to
keep to the woods," Prescott replied. "However, you'll note that
I am taking a course that will gradually lead us to the road."

"Right-o," nodded Reade, after taking a look at their surroundings.
All the members of Dick & Co. had spent so much of their time
in the woods that they knew every foot of the way.

"I wonder where that valiant band of whites is, anyway?" muttered
Dave. "I haven't heard a sound of them."