I kept marching in and out among the trees, touching some and not touching others, the other fellows after me. Pretty soon I hit into the road that crossed the track. We were about a quarter of a mile from the track then. I kept along that road, sometimes walking on the stone wall and sometimes going zigzag in the road. I knew we were going west and I was pretty sure that Temple Camp was southwest, but I didn’t know how far. I thought that pretty soon we would come to a crossroad and that there would be a sign there. Pretty soon we did come to one and there was a sign there, all right. I was glad of that because the road we were on had made so many turns I didn’t know for certain which direction we were going in. Besides, the sky was all cloudy so I couldn’t tell anything by the sun. “There’s a sign post!” one of the fellows shouted. “Saved!” another fellow yelled. I didn’t strain my eyes to see what was on the signboard, but as soon as I saw it I began passing in and out among the trees along the road, grabbing each tree and going around it. All the while we were singing those crazy rhymes. So that way I came to the sign post and grabbed hold of it and around I went, only, good night, the post went round with my hand. “There’s a good turn,” I shouted. “Now you didn’t do a thing but make the plot thicker,” Pee-wee yelled at me at the top of his voice. “Now you’ve got everything mixed up.” “I changed the whole map of the Catskills,” I said. “That’s nothing; see how the map of Europe is changed. I don’t think much of a signboard that changes its mind.” “I don’t think much of a scout that changes a signboard,” Pee-wee shouted. We all stood there staring at the sign. On the top of that post were two boards crossways to each other and on each board two directions were printed with arrows pointing. On one board was printed _COXSACKIE 8 M._, with an arrow pointing one way, and _ATHENS 5 M._, with an arrow pointing the opposite way. On the other board was printed _CAIRO 9 M._, with an arrow pointing one way, and _CLAYVILLE 7 M._, with an arrow pointing the other way, and underneath that board was a little board with _TEMPLE CAMP_ printed on it. I guess scouts put that there. But a lot of good that sign did us because all we knew was that Temple Camp was in the same direction as Clayville and we didn’t know which direction Clayville was in. “Follow your leader and you don’t know where you’re at,” Pee-wee said, very disgusted like. “Wrong the first time,” I said. “The poem says follow your nose. Would you rather believe the guide post than that beautiful poem? The poem never changes but the guide post moves around. We know where we’re at, we’re right here; deny it if you dare. We’re smarter than the guide post.” “You’re about as smart as a lunatic,” the kid shouted. “If you hadn’t touched that we’d know which way to go. _Now_ where is Temple Camp?” “That’s easy,” I told him; “it’s where it always was.”