"But they may have concealed themselves somewhere," said Clay, "and
besides we don't know which bank they are on."

"We'll keep a sharp lookout on both sides," replied Ned. "If we shout
every now and then I don't think we can miss them. We had better start
right away. I'm getting tired of wandering about the country in this
fashion. It will feel awfully good to climb in a canoe again."

Clay warmly assented to this, and after a last lingering glance at the
shady thickets and the eddying surface of the pool, the boys plodded off
through the woods.

For a time they experienced no difficulty in following the edge of the
creek, and thus scrutinizing the opposite shore as well as the one they
were on. Occasionally they shouted; first at rare intervals, then more
frequently as they advanced farther along the creek.

At the expiration of an hour and a half they had traveled three or four
miles, and rounded a couple of large bends without getting any response
to their calls, or finding the least trace of the missing boys.

Then a precipitous hill blocked the way, extending a considerable
distance along the creek, and leading sheer to the water from a
variable height of forty to sixty feet.

"No use in going around it, Ned. We'll follow the crest so we can watch
the opposite shore."

They easily gained the summit, and found a sort of open path between the
edge of the thick pine forest and the verge of the cliff. It was half a
dozen feet wide and had quite a downward slope. There was quite an
element of danger connected with the ascent, since it was slippery with
a coating of pine needles. The boys did not think of this, however. Of
course they kept close to the trees, but as their gaze was fixed on the
opposite shore, which was in plain view far below them, they could not
pick out their footing as carefully as they should have done.

Pine needles are treacherous things, even on level ground, and when Clay
happened to step on a particularly thick bunch his foot slipped and he
was thrown quickly on his side. Before he could realize his danger he
slid to the verge of the precipice--where there was nothing to stop
him--and vanished from sight.

Ned was horror stricken, and had to clutch the nearest tree for support.
Half a dozen seconds passed, but the splash that he dreaded to hear did
not come. Then he made his way cautiously to a rock that jutted from the
cliff half a dozen-feet from where Clay had fallen. Ned threw hi