They were just turning a bend of the road, when Paul chanced to look
backward. About a quarter of a mile back he descried a horse and wagon
wearing a familiar look. Fixing his eyes anxiously upon them, he was
soon made aware that his suspicions were only too well founded. It was
Mr. Mudge, doubtless in quest of him.

"What shall I do?" he asked, hurriedly of his companion.

"What's the matter?"

This was quickly explained.

John was quickwitted, and he instantly decided upon the course proper
to be pursued. On either side of the road was a growth of underbrush so
thick as to be almost impenetrable.

"Creep in behind there, and be quick about it," directed John, "there is
no time to lose."

"There," said he, after Paul had followed his advice, "if he can see you
now he must have sharp eyes."

"Won't you come in too?"

"Not I," said John, "I am anxious to see this Mr. Mudge, since you have
told me so much about him. I hope he will ask me some questions."

"What will you tell him?"