find a suitable spot in which to camp for the night. Matters
would take care of themselves in the daytime. He wanted to follow the
railroad tracks, for he knew that would keep him close to the river, but
he knew also that it had the disadvantage of being the very thing the
boys would suppose it most likely that he would do. For, feel as he
would toward them, he did not for a moment believe that they would let
him take himself off without searching for him. And he knew something of
Tom Slade's ability as a tracker.

"They won't get any merit badges trailing _me_, though," he said.

So he crossed the tracks and walked a couple of hundred feet or so up a
hill, grabbed the limb of a tree, swung up into its branches, let
himself down on the other side, and retraced his steps to the tracks and
began to walk the ties, northward. He was now thoroughly in the spirit
of the escapade and a feeling of independence seized him, a feeling that
every scout knows, that having undertaken a thing he must succeed in it.

A walk of about ten minutes brought him to a high, roofed platform
beside the tracks, where one or two hogsheads were standing and several
cases. But there was no sign of life or habitation. It was evidently the
freight station for some town not far distant, for a couple of
old-fashioned box-cars stood on a siding, and Pee-wee contemplated them
with the joy of sudden inspiration.

"Crinkums, that would be a dandy place to sleep," he thought, for it was
blowing up cold and he had but scant equipment.

He went up to the nearest car and felt of the sliding door. It was the
least bit open, owing to its damaged condition, and by moving it a very
few inches more he could have slipped inside. But he paused to examine
the pasters and chalk marks on the body. One read "Buffalo--4--LLM."
There were the names of various cities and numerous strange marks. It
was evident the car had been quite a globe-trotter in its time, but as
it stood there then it seemed to Pee-wee that so it must have stood for
a dozen years and was likely to stand for a dozen years more.

He slid the door a little farther open on its rusty hinges and climbed
inside. It was very dark and still and smelled like a stable, but
suddenly he was aware of a movement not far from him. He did not exactly
hear it, but he felt that something was moving. For a moment a cold
shudder went over him and he stood stark still, not daring to move.
Then, believing that his imagi