"All right; we're coming!" Tom called back. "Just please don't go so
awfully fast!"
"We are going to take the trail to the left!" Dick shouted back, but the
others did not catch the words.
Tom and Sam advanced now slower than ever, and when they reached a spot
where there was an opening to the right and another to the left, the
others were not only out of sight, but out of hearing as well. It had
now begun to snow more thickly than ever.
"Which way did they take?" questioned Sam, in perplexity.
"Reckon they went this way, Sam."
"It looks to me as if they went the other way. Here are some
footprints."
"Here are some footprints, too."
They came to a standstill, more perplexed than ever. Sure enough, there
were two sets of footprints, running almost at right angles to each
other.
"I guess we've hit somebody else's trail," said Sam. "Dick! Mr. Barrow!
Where are you?" he called out.
No answer came back, and then the two boys shouted in chorus. All
remained as silent as before.
"Well, this is a mess, to say the least," was Tom's comment.
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