om the path they had
followed that morning. The country was more lonely and rugged--a
continual succession of steep hills and dense bits of forest. Few
farmhouses were visible, and those only at a distance.

The sun sank lower and lower as they trudged wearily along. The many
miles already covered that day were beginning to tell on them severely.
They were hungry, too, having eaten nothing since breakfast.

"I wish we had bought some crackers and cheese at the store," said Ned;
"I thought about it when we were nearly a mile away, but it was too late
then to go back."

"We have Randy's cake," replied Clay. "I'm going to break into it if we
don't soon reach camp. I don't remember when I was so hungry as I am
now."

"Wait a little while," said Ned. "The creek surely can't be far away.
The chances are that it lies beyond that next hill."

The hill to which he had reference was a good half mile distant, and the
pine trees on its crest loomed sharply against the blue sky. Ere
reaching it the boys were destined to be deprived of their burden in a
very aggravating manner--and just when they had begun to appreciate its
value as a means of satisfying their hunger.

As they emerged from a copse of hazel bushes on a narrow country road, a
big black dog bounded from the step of a little cabin a few yards away,
and came at them in a most ferocious manner. The boys darted across the
road and into a clover field through a broken place in the fence.

The dog followed, paying not the least attention to the loud commands of
a woman who stood in the cabin door. When Ned wheeled around the brute
was within a dozen feet of him, growling savagely, showing his fangs and
teeth, and coming on at a pace which meant business.

Shouting had no effect whatever, and as not a stick or a stone was
within reach, the boy's situation was far from pleasant. But he had the
cake box in his arms, and on the impulse of the moment he lifted it over
his head with both hands and dashed it with all his might at the
advancing brute.

It struck him fairly on the nose, breaking open with the force of the
blow, and turning the angry snarls into a shrill yelp of pain. Ned did
not wait to see the result, but dashed across the field to overtake
Clay.

When they turned and looked back from a safe distance, the dog was
greedily devouring the broken cake.

"We won't be troubled with that any more," said Ned. "I had to do it, or
the brute would have bitten me.