“We ran around the side of the house, through the backyard, and down a slope that led to the stream. Jumping the stream, we moved in under the trees. It was a little before eight o’clock on Saturday morning. The sky was overcast, and there was a cold breeze that occasionally gusted, lifting the dead leaves off the floor of the woods and loosing more from the branches above. We followed a winding path toward East Lake. Jim suggested we not take the most direct route that passed closest to the sch...ool yard but that we arc out on a lesser-used trail through moss patches and low scrub. He had Pop’s old binoculars slung around his neck, and I carried the Brownie camera. As we neared the lake, Jim warned me to keep quiet and said that if we were spotted, we should split up; he’d head toward the railroad tracks, and I’d go back the way we came. I nodded, and from that point on, we only whispered. After jumping the snaking stream twice more, from mossy hillock to root bole, from sandbank to solid dirt, we came in view of the lake.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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