The hours passed slowly, as none of the three even attempted to sleep. As soon as the gray dawn lightened into brightness, Teddy sprang to his feet. “Now,” he said sharply, “we can start. We won’t stop--” his eyes narrowed and he clenched his fists. “We’ll find Roy if we have to stay here a week! Come on!” “No breakfast, son?” Pop expostulated questioningly, thinking that unless Teddy kept up his strength he might collapse when he learned the truth. For Pop was firmly convinced that they would see Roy alive no more. Yet, even with this weight on his heart, he presented to Teddy a face that had nothing in it but hope. “Eat?” Teddy asked contemptuously. “Not me! I’ve eaten my last meal until Roy comes back and eats with me!” “Keep yore nerve, kid,” Pop muttered. “I’m afraid this day’s gonna be a tough one. Poor Roy!” and with leaden steps he followed Teddy. CHAPTER XVI Separated Slowly, as though awaking from a drugged sleep, Roy Manley came to himself. His eyes stared upward through a screen of green foliage tangled above him. He twitched his shoulders and felt the hard earth beneath them. Weakly, he turned his head from side to side, trying vainly to force his sluggish brain into activity by impressing upon it some familiar sight, so that he might recall his situation. Of course he knew where he was. It was just that he was tired and couldn’t think well. In a moment it would come to him. He would lie here a bit longer until those confounded trees stopped whirling around, then he’d get up. Let’s see, now. He was in the woods, that was certain. And that murmuring in the distance--or was the whirr within his own head? Cautiously Roy raised his hand, passed it gently over his disheveled hair. Snakes, what a lump! How did he get that? Dully he rubbed the spot where the bruise was and found the hair matted. “Must have gotten a terrific sock,” he muttered. “That’s blood. Funny it doesn’t ache. Golly, it’s cold! Better build a fire.” He sat up uncertainly. Then he made a stupendous discovery. “Why, I’m all wet!” he exclaimed in amazement. He fingered his soggy vest and stared stupidly down at his soaked shoes. “How did that happen? No wonder I’m cold! And I guess I won’t build a fire, either, for if I’m wet the matches will be wet; that is, if I have any. And if the matches are wet I’ll be wet--I mean the opposite--” He snapped his fingers and shook his head impatiently. Talking to himself like a little child! The thing to do was to find out where he was and how he arrived here. Perhaps if he got out in the sun and away from the shade of this tree he might be warmer. Automatically he struggled to his feet.