"Not much signs of being struck by anything but the wind," he announced.
"Still, I aint sure."
"We'll try from this point, anyway," said Tom. "No use of missing any
chance, however small." And on this the others agreed.
Once again they began to pace off the ground as before. Here the task
was as difficult as ever, as they had to pass through some timber
thickly intergrown with brush.
"I suppose in Goupert's time this timber was small," observed the guide.
The tramping around was beginning to tire them, and soon Sam had to stop
to rest and get back his wind.
"I feel like a regular snow-plow," he gasped. "Tell you what, it takes
the wind right out of a chap."
"You rest while we go ahead," suggested Tom, but Sam did not wish to do
this.
"Not much! If the treasure is going to be found, I want to be on deck!"
he cried.
Presently they we're at it again, Dick pacing off the steps as carefully
as ever. They had still fifteen paces to go when John Barrow came to a
stop with a sniff of disgust.
"Wrong ag'in!"
"How so?"
"This is leadin' us right out on the pond.
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