“Stick to the trail—it’s our only guide,” advised Jake. He led the way, recalling as best he could the twisting of the narrow track which they had once followed by daylight on an idle exploring trip earlier in the season. An infrequent lightning-flash was their only help, and it was no wonder that they more than once wandered from the dim trail.
Deep into the murky reaches of the woods, they paused for breath. So far, they had seen or heard nothing save gloom-shrouded trees; the usual storm-noises of the wilderness; and the crackling of branches that marked their advance.
“Now, which way?” asked Jerry guardedly. “I think the trail splits about here. It’s getting late—if anybody in our tents wakes up, we’re sure to be missed. No use waiting here.” His teeth were chattering from the damp of the low ground. “Do you think we’ll have to give up?”
Jake was staring intently ahead. “I thought I caught a little glow of light over there just a second ago! If this rain would only hold up for a while—— There! See it?” He seized his brother’s arm and pointed.
Jerry peered anxiously into the mist. “Where?”
“Not that way! Right ahead! It must be a fire! That’s our man, all right! Guess he thinks he’s fairly safe on a night like this—and he sure needs a fire; it’s chilly enough over here to freeze you stiff! Are you ready?”
“Sure, Jakie! No use trying to creep up on him, though. We’ll sneak as close as we can, and then both rush him and jump him together! Come on, let’s get it over with. He’s not much bigger than we are, and we’ll take him by surprise!”
“Don’t let him get hold of his ax, though!” Jake quivered with excitement. “Ready?” He crept toward the low tinge of red light that marked the outlaw’s risky campfire.
They advanced unchallenged for some two hundred yards through the dripping trees, in line with their goal. Their straining eyes could barely make out a small heap of glowing branches at the mouth of what seemed to be a rude shelter of sticks and dead limbs, which would cut off the tiny glow from all other directions except the one from which they approached. Not another sign of life came from the secret camp they had risked so much to find.
“Now!” said Jake sharply, and dashed forward. Jerry was right at his side in a few strides. It was like the football days at school, with Quarterback Jake carrying the ball, and his husky brother at his elbow, crashing through the line—“Right through center!” Jerry was amazed to hear that shout in his own voice. In the madness of that charge he had sent forth the old battle-cry.