And after they had watched for it for a
full quarter of an hour and had walked a deal farther than they should
have they reached the entirely justifiable conclusion that they were
lost!
Perry set down the battered milk can on which they had paid a deposit of
twenty-five cents, took a long breath and, viewing the encompassing fog,
exclaimed melodramatically: "Lost on Martha's Vineyard, or The Mystery
of the Four Dozen Eggs!"
"Well, we won't starve for awhile," laughed Han. "Say, where _is_ that
lane we came up, anyway? Think we've passed it?"
"About ten miles back," sighed Perry. "Come on and let's try dead
reckoning. The beach is over there somewhere and if we can find it--"
"Great! But when we have found it, which way shall we go?"
Perry pushed his hat back and thoughtfully scratched his head. "Give it
up!" he said at last. "You might go one way and I another. Anyway, let's
find the old beach."
They scrambled across a wall into a bush-grown tract, Han discovering in
the process that he had chosen a place prettily bedecked with
poison-ivy. "That does for me," said Han gloomily. "I'll have a fine
time of it now for a couple of weeks. I can't even look at that stuff
without getting poisoned!"
"Maybe it didn't see you," said Perry cheerfully.
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