ster's paper didn't mention that burg, did it?" asked Dave.

"Reckon not. But on this envelope," here Phil took out the pencilled
scrap, "there's a dot with the word 'town' beside it that I take to mean
the same thing. Here runs the railroad, going east and west. Look at
this line running due southeast. Somewhere along that line I figure
there ought to be signs of the old tavern. I guess we've left that town
at least six or eight miles behind."

Where they were now much of the timber appeared to be second growth, and
such hemlocks as they saw were small.

In a shaded spot to the right of the ill-kept highway they stopped at a
small rivulet for the noonday lunch. This was eaten rather silently. In
fact, so gloomy were their surroundings that after eating Phil Way
proposed that they should divide themselves, two in each party, and
explore to the north and south of the highway for a mile or so, making a
detour into the forest as they went.

"I'm with you," said Paul briskly. "I'm getting tired of all this
guessing. Let's start from here, Phil, and take a half circle northwest,
then west, then south, crossing the highway. After another mile, we'll
turn east, then northeast, then north until we strike the road again.
Dave, you and Billy do the same thing, only turn northeast, east, then
south and so on so as to bring you back to the road not far from where
we all are now."

But before any comment could be made on this plan there came a sudden
interruption.

CHAPTER XII

NAN AND THE JERSEY BULL

There came a soft clatter of feet on the shaded greensward, and into
view came the flying form of a girl, barefooted, sunbonneted, with a
cheap calico gown showing a pair of graceful ankles, her touzled but
abundant hair hardly half held by the pins. A second glance assured the
boys that they knew that reddish coiffure, though now in disarray, and
that supple form. It was undoubtedly the girl of the hay wagon, her
finery laid away, and now chastely clad in the dangerously skimpy home
attire, wherever that still mysterious home of hers might be.

Seeing the boys, their car, and the remains of the noonday meal, she
paused, hesitated, then burst forward, exclaiming:

"Oh, oh! It's you, is it?" She gave a frightened glance behind her, and
at the same time the boys thought they detected a low but growing rumble
indicative of a coming bellow. "I'm so glad--ah-h! Listen at him!"

"What is it, Miss Nan?" queried Phil, at