"Trust Frank to look out for himself," remarked Bart. "He found a good
warm place, I guess. But I don't see why he is staying away. If he was
caught out after dark, and couldn't find his way back, he could see the
trail by this time. I wonder why we don't meet him?"
"Maybe he's hurt," suggested Fenn.
"Nonsense!" exclaimed Ned. "There's nothing in these woods to hurt a fly.
I don't believe there's even a fox."
"I didn't mean animals," Fenn went on.
"What then?"
"Why he might have fallen, or, he might have met some bad men."
"Of course he might have taken a tumble and sprained his ankle, or
something like that," Bart said. "But as for men, if there are any in
these woods, which I very much doubt, what reason would they have for
harming Frank?"
"It might be in connection with that mysterious secret he seems
bothered about."
"Oh, you're worse than a half-dime novel," cried Ned with a laugh. "Come
on, and stop that dismal croaking."
Still following the telephone line, the boys went on. Now and then they
stopped to listen for any sounds which might indicate that Frank, or any
other person, was coming through the woods.
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