CHAPTER XXII
AN ANXIOUS SEARCH
George Abbot had the luck of finding the road for which he and hischums had all vainly sought so long in the storm. It will be rememberedthat the four boys had started in different directions, correspondingto the different points of the compass, to search for a route, eitherback to the hut where they had spent the night, or to one of the threecamps.
And it was George who found the road.
True he did not know which road it was at the time, but when he hadstumbled on through the drifting snow, fighting his way against thestorm for some time, he fairly tumbled down a little embankment,rolling over and over.
"Well, what's this?" George asked himself, rather dazed, as he rose tohis feet.
He had his answer in a moment.
"It's a road--I hope it's _the_ road," he went on, as he saw that thelittle declivity down which he had fallen was where the road had beencut through a hill, leaving a slope on either side of the highway.
"I must signal to the others at once," George decided. His gun hadslipped from his grasp when he fell, but he now picked up the weapon,and fired two shots in quick succession. It was the signal agreed upon.
The wind was blowing hard, and George was not sure that the soundof the shots would carry to his chums. He did not know just how farthey were from him. So, after waiting a bit, he strolled down thesnow-covered road a bit, and fired again. He repeated this three times,at intervals, before he heard an answering shot. Then he raised hisvoice in a yell, and soon was relieved to be joined by Jack.
"What is it?" Jack asked.
"The road--I've found it," George answered.
"Where's Bert--and Tom?"
"Haven't seen either of them."
"Well, they're probably looking yet. We'll fire some more shots andbring 'em up."
George and Jack fired at intervals, the signal each time being tworapid shots, but it was some time before they had an answer. It finallycame in the shape of another shot, followed quickly by a shout.
"It's Bert," said George.
"Sounded more like Tom," was his chum's guess. While they waited, theyexchanged experiences. Jack told of vainly floundering about in thedrifts, while George had better news to impart.
"I fairly stumbled on the road," he said.
"Any way at all, as long as you found it," said Jack. "Here comessomeone now."
It proved to be Bert, who staggered up through the storm, himselfalmost a living snowball.
"Found anything?" he gasped, for he was quite "winded."
"The road," answered George.
"Where's Tom?" asked Jack.
"Why, isn't he with you?" asked Bert, in some surprise. "I haven't seenanything of him."
"He's probably off searching for a highway," said George, hopefully."We'll fire a few more shots."
They fired more than a few, but received no response from Tom, and wewell know the reason why, though his chums did not at the time.
"Well, what had we better do?" asked Jack, at length. "I'm about allin, and I guess you fellows feel about the same."
"I would like something to eat," admitted Bert.
"And I'm terribly cold," confessed George, who was shivering.
"Well, let's look about a bit on either side of this road, then go upand down it a ways, and keep firing and shouting," suggested Jack. "Wemay find Tom. If we don't--well, I think we'd better see where thisroad goes."
They adopted that plan, but though they shouted vigorously, and firedmany shots, there came no answer from Tom.
The exercise and the shouting, however, had one good result. It warmedGeorge so he was no longer in danger of coming down with pneumonia.
"Well, it's six of one and a half dozen of the other," said Bert, atlength. "What shall we do, and which way shall we go on this road toget to camp?"
"We'd better try to find one of the cabins," said Jack. "And I thinkthis direction seems to be the most likely," and he pointed to the left.
"Go ahead; I'm with you," said Bert, and George nodded assent.
"What about Tom, though?" asked George, anxiously.
"Well, we can't find him. He may have gone on ahead, or he may still besearching for a road. In either case he's too far off for us to makehim hear--that's evident. And we may find him just as well by trying tomake our way back to camp as staying here," said Jack.
So it was decided to do this, and off they started. The storm did notseem quite so fierce now. In fact, there were indications that the fallof snow was lessening. But a great deal had fallen, making walkingdifficult. The cold was intense, but it was a dry cold, not like thedamp, penetrating air of New Jersey, and the boys stood it much better.
They had not gone far before Jack uttered a cry.
"Here he comes! There's Tom!" he shouted, pointing at a figureadvancing toward them through the mist of flakes that were stillfalling, but more lazily now.
"It's someone, but how do you know it's Tom?" asked Bert.
"Who else would it be?" Jack wanted to know.
"It might be--Skeel," suggested George.
"Or that--bear!" and, as he said this, Bert advanced his gun.
"Nonsense--that's no bear!" exclaimed Jack. "It isn't Tom though,either," he added, as the figure came nearer.
A moment later they all saw at once who it was.
"Sam Wilson!" exclaimed Bert. "That's good! Now he can tell us what todo, and where Tom is. Hello, Sam!" he called, for that was how everyoneaddressed the genial guide--even those who had met him only once ortwice.
"Hello yourselves!" Sam answered in greeting. "What are you fellowsdoing here?"
"We've been lost, and we've just found ourselves," explained Jack."We're on our way to Camp No. 3."
"Oh, no, you're not!" exclaimed Sam, smiling.
"Why not?" Bert wanted to know.
"For the simple reason that you're on your way to Camp No. 2," answeredSam. "You're going the wrong way for Camp No. 3."
"Well, maybe we are twisted," admitted Jack, "but as long as we'reheaded for some camp, I don't care what it is.
"We've been out all night," he added, "or at least sheltered in only anold cabin. We haven't had anything to-day but some coffee, and we'reabout done out. Isn't this storm fierce?"
"Oh, we're used to these up here in the Adirondacks," spoke Sam.
Then the boys told how they had been out hunting and had seen thesignpost that informed them it was seven miles to Ramsen.
"But you went the wrong way!" exclaimed Sam, when he had heard thedetails. "Ramsen was in just the opposite direction."
"Then the signboard was wrong!" declared Jack.
"That's funny," Sam spoke, musingly. "Signboards don't changethemselves that way. There's something wrong here."
"Well, never mind that," went on Bert. "Have you seen anything of TomFairfield?"
"Tom Fairfield! Why, I thought he was with you!" exclaimed Sam, quicklylooking around.
"He was, but we separated to find the road," explained George, "and nowwe can't locate Tom."
"Well, this won't do," Sam spoke, and his voice was serious. "We willhave to hunt for him right away. He hasn't had anything to eat, yousay?"
"None of us have," said Jack. "That's why we were so glad to find somesort of road."
"Well, I've got my pung back there a piece," said the guide. "I havesome grub in it that I was taking over to your Camp No. 2. I can giveyou a snack from that, and then we'll do some searching for the boy. Ilike Tom Fairfield!"
"So do I!" exclaimed Jack, and the others nodded emphatic agreements,with a chorus of:
"That's what!"
Never did food taste so good as that which Sam brought up from hispung. He explained that he had walked on ahead while his horses wereeating their dinners from nose-bags.
"And it's lucky for you fellows I did," he said, "though of course youmight have stumbled on the camp yourselves. But now for a search."
And with anxious hearts the boys took it up. Where could Tom
Fairfieldbe? That was a question each one asked himself.