Nickie seemed to have been silenced without the gun, but Skippy said, "Aw, don't worry, mister. Why should we beat it when you're gonna ship us out west an' everything, huh?" "I'm glad you feel that way," the man said gravely, but watching the boys out of the corner of his eye. "Timmy got very restless waiting around and I had an idea he was putting notions in your heads." He coughed. "Aw, no," Skippy said with a gulp. "I--er--he didn't say nothin'." Devlin did not relax. "I might as well tell you my plans now," he said slowly. "I'm taking you both to a country doctor not far from here for a physical examination. You are to act as if you didn't know where you were born or much of anything else--understand? You may answer yes and no to any questions he asks you but that is all. I'll do the rest of the talking. And you're my sons--my sons! Don't forget that for a moment. I'll be watching every minute." They rode through the woods path, turning here and there so that Skippy could not keep track of the route. Dusk was rapidly approaching and when Devlin slowed down the car as they came abreast of a narrow path, he could just about make it out. Devlin stopped the car and got out backwards. Then, reaching in the pocket flap of the coupé door, he drew out a searchlight and played it up and down the boggy-looking path for a flashing second, yet giving Skippy plenty of time to notice several large footprints on both sides of the trail. He said nothing to Nickie for Devlin was back in the car again in a moment and they had started off. A few feet farther on they crossed a tiny wooden bridge of amateur construction. "Frost and me fixed that up," said the man as they rattled over the logs. He coughed again. "Part bog and part creek and about fifteen feet deep where we put the logs. Nasty place. Folks around here don't know anything about it any more--their grandfolks and great-grandfolks that did have forgot about it now." They came at last to a road that had once boasted asphalt and Skippy guessed that it had taken them at least an hour to reach it. Along this they speeded silently, each one wrapped in his own thoughts. Not a car did they meet, not a person or house did they pass and it was fully two hours after they had left the dismal house when they espied a small, lighted dwelling by the roadside. Devlin drove past that, too, and presently he turned on to another badly paved road which took them uphill. Skippy noticed the dark outline of mountains spreading out around them. It was true then, he thought, the house was situated in the center of swamplands and forest. But where--where were they? Another half hour's ride and they came into a small village, boasting a few stores and not more than twenty-five houses. It was at the extreme end of this quiet community and a little around the bend that Devlin brought the car to a stop.