Bub scornfully refuted this, but was immensely pleased, nevertheless. The ground now began to descend and Bub’s face took on a worried look. “I hate to strike a swamp, or even moderate low land,” he explained as he caught Stanley’s inquiring eyes. “At this time of the year it will be wet and leave a trail like an open book. Wait, I’ll climb a tree and see if there’s a way around it.”
He studied both sides of their course long and earnestly, but was compelled to announce: “The swamp runs from the river far inland. If not for meeting Nick we could beat back and go around it on the ridge. But that is too much of a risk and we must chance it straight ahead.”
“We could take to the river. We have the canoe,” reminded Stanley.
“Yes, if we wanted to escape from this region. But we’re out to find Abner,” said Bub.
“Never for a moment did I think of leaving here till we had found him,” warmly declared Stanley. “I thought we might take to the canoe and drop down below the swamp.”
Bub shook his head. “No go,” he discouraged. “They’d pick us off inside of a mile after we'd landed, for they’re hugging the shore to keep Abner inland. Our only chance
