look back in the bushes.

"There might be--away back yonder," whispered Robert Day, emboldened
by remembering that his capable grandmother was just within the tent,
and Zene at easy waking distance.

"But all the people will hitch up and drive away in the morning," he
added, "and we won't know anything about 'em."

To aunt Corinne this seemed a great pity. "I'd like to see how
everybody looks," she meditated.

"So'd I," whispered her nephew.

"It's hardly rainin' a drizzle now," whispered aunt Corinne.

"I get so tired ridin' all day long," whispered Robert, "that I wish
I was a scout or something, like that old Indian that was named
Trackless in the book--that went through the woods and through the
woods, and didn't leave any mark and never seemed to wear out. You
remember I read you a piece of it?"

Aunt Corinne fidgeted on the log.

"Wouldn't you like," suggested her nephew, whose fancy the nighttime
stimulated, "to get on a flying carpet and fly from one place to
another?"

Aunt Corinne cast a glance back over her shoulder.