But Frank was determined to solve the mystery, and he kept doggedly on.
Several times he slipped and fell, and once he struck a stone that
inflicted quite a cut on his forehead.
"If Alice Keene was here now," he murmured as he wiped the blood off,
"she would get some of the practice she is so fond of. As it is I've got
to doctor myself."
He washed the cut in a stream of water, and after resting himself kept
on. Farther and farther he penetrated into the woods. He had a general
idea of the direction in which he was going, and knew he could easily
find his way back again, as he had but to follow the wire until he got
to the point where he could strike back to camp.
"Maybe, after all my work, I'll find it leads to no place but a house in
the woods where some rich man has come to spend the summer," Frank
thought, but, even while he said this to himself, he did not believe it.
He hoped the wire would lead him to something that would help him solve
the secret that was so puzzling.
On and on he kept. It began to grow dusk, as the sun sank lower behind
the trees, and the forest was quite dark.
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