But, if he was safe, he was hopelessly lost. At least he would
have been, had he been an ordinary boy, without the scout
training. He was in unknown country and he had been chased away
from all the landmarks he had. It was of the utmost importance
that he should reach as soon as possible, and, especially, without
passing too near Bray Park, the spot where the motorcycles and the
papers and codes had been cached. And, when he finally came to a
full stop, satisfied that he no longer had anything to fear from
pursuit, he was completely in the dark as to where he was.

However, his training asserted itself. Although Harry had been in
charge, Dick had not failed to notice everything about the place
where they made their cache that would help to identify it. That
was instinct with him by this time, after two years as a scout; it
was second nature. And, though it had been light, he had pictured
pretty accurately what the place would look like at night. He
remembered for instance, that certain stars would be sure to fill
the sky in a particular relation to the cache. And now he looked
up and worked out his own position. To do that he had to
reconstruct, with the utmost care, his movements since he had left
the cache to the moment when he and Harry had entered Bray Park.

But the chase had confused him, naturally. He had doubled on his
track more than once, trying to throw his pursuers off. But by
remembering accurately the position of Bray Park in its relation
to the cache, and by concentrating as earnestly as he could to
remember as much as possible of the course of his flight, he
arrived presently at a decision of how he must proceed to retrieve
the motorcycles and the papers.