Uncle Toby looked back and grinned amiably as he noted his ladder of
protection, and his friendly tree of refuge.
Each boy in turn started his machine by walking, then vaulted into the
saddle, and began to move along the trail that led down to the lumber
camps at the head of the lake.
No one said a word. In truth all were too full of emotion to speak, for
they felt this sudden flitting more than they cared to admit.
A turn of the trail and no longer could they see the twin hemlocks under
which the two khaki tents had stood. Frank had broken up many times in
his camping experiences and knew just how it felt; but the sensation was
new to the others. It was as if they had just lost a dear friend--as
though something had gone out of their lives that could never be
recovered again.
Now in advance of the trundling wagon, and anon bringing up the rear,
they kept on until finally the opening at the lumber camp was gained.
From now on their progress would be faster, and if they wished they could
leave Toby to come along with the wagon while they opened up and made a
speedy run for home.
Somehow no one seemed to care about doing that. The wagon held something
that had been associated in their minds with the most delightful of
times, and they felt as though they ought to continue to act as a guard
of honor to the slow moving team.
Pages:
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204