"And I'm not likely to get any," he remarked. "I'm not going to eat
until I see who's in that house. Maybe I won't then, and where
supper is coming from I don't know. But this is too important to be
considered in the same breath with a meal. Here goes."
Cautiously Tom made his way forward, taking care not to make too
much disturbance in the bushes. He had been on hunting trips, and
knew the value of silence in the woods. He had no paths to follow,
but he had noted the position of the sun, and though that luminary
was now sinking lower and lower in the west, he could see the gleam
of it through the trees, and knew in which direction from it lay the
deserted mansion.
Tom moved slowly, and stopped every now and then to listen. All the
sounds he heard were those made by the creatures of the woods--
birds, squirrels and rabbits. He went forward for half an hour,
though in that time he did not cover much ground, and he was just
beginning to think that the house must be near at hand when through
a fringe of bushes he saw the old mansion. It stood in the midst of
what had once been a fine park, but which was now overgrown with
weeds and tangled briars. The paths that led to the house were
almost out of sight, and the once beautiful home was partly in
ruins.
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