And now the path, although it was on level ground, seemed to grow more and more difficult. Ben, glancing behind him, doubtfully remarked: "As long as there are only two miles of this, I suppose we can stand it, but if any person feels tired, sing out and we'll start back without trying to make Indian Head." "We are all right," they assured him. For a long time they walked on in silence. The ground was soft and squashy under foot, and Billie privately believed that the trail lay only in Ben's imagination. "Ben," she said at last. "I think maybe we had better start back. We don't seem to be getting anywhere, and this ground is like a sponge." Silently they turned their faces in the other direction, feeling all at once chilled and tired and hungry. Ben, leading the way with Billie, began to look serious. "Billie," he said in a low voice after a while, "I am afraid I am not worthy the confidence Miss Campbell has placed in me. I am afraid I'll have to confess that we are lost." CHAPTER V. IN THE BOG. It was not an unique experience to Billie to be lost. She had once known what it was to be out of sight of every human habitation on a Western plain, and furthermore half dead with hunger and thirst. You will recall how the "Comet" once carried the Motor Maids safely over an old wagon trail through a tropical forest in Florida, and perhaps also you have not forgotten how Billie and Mary Price were lost in the sacred groves of Nikko in Japan. Therefore, Billie was not in the least frightened when Ben confided to her private ear that he had missed the trail. "We can't be very much lost," she answered. "'Table Top' is only two miles broad, and we'll have to reach one side or the other pretty soon." "I hope so," said Ben, "but don't tell the others yet. If they lose confidence in me, it will only make matters worse. I wasn't prepared for this bog. I should think Mr. Lupo might have mentioned it." "There couldn't be a trail through a bog anyhow, could there?" "Sometimes there is. I've seen a swamp with just a narrow path running through it. But a swamp path is the sneakiest kind of a trail. It hides itself wherever it can under tall grasses and bushes. Of course, Mr. Lupo didn't know we were going, or he would certainly have stopped us, but do you suppose Mrs. Lupo understood we were taking this particular trail?" "She certainly did. I told her myself just before I drew the knife on her." Ben smiled at the mental picture of Billie brandishing a carving knife. "Hey, Ben," called Percy. "Is this a trail? I think it's a channel. I'm up to my knees." Ben made no reply. He was deeply mortified, and hung his head with a kind of animal-like humiliation. "What's the matter, old man?" demanded Percy, putting his arm affectionately on his friend's shoulder. "You look like my collie did when I caught him sucking eggs." "I've missed the trail," Ben burst out with a choke in his voice.