that the noon hour had long since passed, he hurried his companions along.

"Look here," he reminded them, "we are out for evergreens. This is not a
food-grabbing affair. Let's get back to the car. I don't see a blade of
green around here."

"Nary a sprig," declared Tom, looking over the woodland. "Well, I suppose
we will have to leave this retreat. But I hope we find it next summer.
Wouldn't it be a great place to camp?"

All agreed the spot would be ideal for a summer camp, and when they had
entered the Fire Bird and swung again out upon the wagon road, some of the
party rather blamed the kind of holiday that required greens, when such a
fine day might have been spent in the woodchopper's cabin.




CHAPTER XII

THE SCREAM FROM THE CASTLE


Ned White thought he knew all the roads about Ferndale and the Birchlands,
but on this afternoon he stumbled with his party into a perfectly strange
byway. It did not seem to lead to any place in particular, but was one of
those wagon roads cut through private property and public places alike,
without regard to direction or terminus.

This meant that the Fire Bird was lost--couldn't tell which way to fly,