"So you fetched along one of those hand-electric torches, did you, Jack?" he exclaimed. "Well, a flashlight never had a better chance to make itself useful than right now. It's going to be a picnic from here on. I can see every little twig and blade of grass; and as for our trail, a fellow could follow it with one eye shut. Thank goodness! our troubles for the day are ended; unless it comes on to rain cats and dogs before we get under shelter." He cast frequent anxious glances aloft whenever the trees were open enough to allow of a view of the sky. There were no stars visible, as must have been the case had it not clouded over; because the hour had grown late enough for an exhibition of the usual heavenly display. "I hate to say it, Jack, but I really thought I felt a drop right then," Steve remarked. "We can stand it all right, if we have to," commented the other, as though determined not to be cast down by such a trifling happening. "I have a hunch that it won't amount to much, if it rains at all. What's a little wetting between friends, tell me? And neither of us happens to be made of sugar or salt. This sort of thing lends variety and spice to an outing in the woods. It would be too monotonous if every single thing just happened as we planned it. Besides, we have gone half an hour since leaving that twisted tree." "Jack, just then it seemed to me I could glimpse some sort of a light ahead of us. Toby might have built a roaring fire, to cheer us up as we came along the back trail. Yes, there I could see it flame up again, over the trees and against the background of the clouded sky. We're getting close to home, thank goodness!" "I agree with you, Steve, for I saw it just as you said. Toby, like a good fellow, has started up a big fire. He must be getting a bit anxious about us by this time, and you can't blame him much. No one likes to be left alone in camp all day, and then have a dark night come along, with prospects of a storm, too." "Shall I give him a shout, Jack? It'll ease the poor fellow's mind some." "Just one whoop, then, Steve. He'll understand, and can be finishing supper while he waits. How about that rain now; have you felt any more drops?" "No, I own up I haven't," confessed Steve, "and mebbe I was mistaken about thinking as I did. Queer how things somehow do manage to clear up. Often what we dread never happens at all. That old cat didn't tackle us, though I felt sure she would; the storm hasn't caught us yet, if I did count on getting soaked through; and there lies the camp before us," as a sudden turn in the trail allowed them to catch a glimpse of a still distant fire that seemed to leap upward wildly. The thought of soon arriving at the end of their long tramp gave both lads additional vigor, so that they actually increased their pace, and made better time in the last half mile of the journey.