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ON THE WRONG TRAIL.
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on the river clear. I know a good camping spot ten miles from here, and that will be just the place for us while you are huntin' around fer that money."

"Then let us make that camping spot by all means," said Tom. "We mustn't let Baxter get first whack at the treasure."

It was eight o'clock when they started once more on their journey. The air was dull and heavy, and the snow came down in thick flakes, which presently shut out the landscape on all sides. Fortunately the wind had died down entirely, so it was not near so cold as it had been.

"It would be easy enough, if we could stick to the river all the way," remarked Tom to Sam, as they skated along as best they could.

"Can't we?"

"Mr. Barrow says not. About two miles from here are another falls and a set of rocky rapids, and we'll have to walk around for a distance of nearly a mile through the woods."

What Tom said was true, and the falls were reached less than an hour later. The river was very narrow at this point and lined on both sides with rough rocks. Climbing was difficult, and after crawling along for a few rods die boys hatted in dismay.

"We're up against it now," groaned Dick.

"Don't be discouraged, lads!" came from the