“Wait a second. We don’t know that Max—” Bess began hesitantly.
George whipped around to confront her. “For Pete’s sake, Bess. We heard their fight. We heard Paula scream. And then we saw her go over. It’s as simple as one, two, three. Paula’s dead and Max killed her!”
Bess sat down and put her face in her hands.
“I’m afraid George may be right, Bess,” Nancy said gently, kneeling beside her. “But there is still a chance Max may not have killed Paula. After all, we don’t know exactly what happened up there—only what we saw and heard.”
“What do you want? A signed confession?” Tod said.
“But why?” asked Ralph. “Did he and Paula sabotage both rafts and the radio just to get us stranded out here?” He shook his head in puzzlement. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe Paula found out that Max did all those things,” Tod suggested. “And when she confronted him with what she knew, he pushed her over the edge to shut her up.”
“Could be,” Mike said. “Or maybe she was getting on his case about capsizing the raft. Between that and those drownings last year, he’d be finished on the river. Maybe she said something—”
“Listen, everybody,” Nancy broke in. “Before you get too far out on a limb with your theories, I’d better tell you that Paula stole the compass out of Bess’s pocket. Ned saw her take it—and so did Max.”
“Paula took it?” Mercedes exclaimed. “Why?” It seemed to Nancy that there was an odd note in her voice, almost as if Mercedes had half suspected that that might happen.
Nancy nodded, convinced Mercedes knew more than she was revealing. Maybe with Paula out of the picture, Mercedes would be willing to talk.
“I think Max believed Paula holed the raft, as well,” Nancy continued, “and that he thought he knew what her motive was. I intended to question him about it this afternoon, but now it’s too late.”
“But why?” Sammy demanded. “Ralph’s right. It just doesn’t make sense. Why would Paula take the compass?”
“Maybe she wanted to keep us lost, for some reason we don’t understand,” Ned pointed out. “Don’t forget, as long as she had the compass, she wasn’t lost. She could find her way out—even if the rest of us couldn’t.”
“So you’re suggesting that Paula was up to something,” George said thoughtfully.
Nancy nodded. “Yes, but we probably won’t know what until we can talk to Max. That’s why it’s so important that we find him.”
Sammy shivered. “Well, you can have the pleasure of finding him. If I saw him, I’d run as fast as I could in the other direction. He’s dangerous!”
“Right now,” Nancy said, “we have to concentrate on finding our way out of here. Then we have to find Max—dangerous or not.”
They sat for a few more minutes on the ledge, trying to decide which direction they should take.
“Paula seemed to be headed up this creek,” Ned pointed out, picking up his pack and adjusting it over his shoulders. “I think we should keep on in that direction. Tod, you and Mike are the ones who are most at home in the woods. I vote that you try to pick out the trail for us.”
They set off again with their packs, even more subdued this time, following Tod and Mike. The going got steeper and steeper, and the underbrush seemed to grow more dense with every yard. Just as Nancy had decided that she was too exhausted to climb over one more twig, the terrain flattened out and the forest opened up. Ahead was the dim outline of what looked like an old logging road, leading in both directions into the dense woods.
“Finally,” Linda moaned, sitting down in the middle of the trail.
“What luck!” Sammy said, dropping her pack wearily. “I was beginning to think we’d never find it!”
“This isn’t luck,” Tod said, grinning. “It’s superior woodsmanship!”
“Whatever it is,” Nancy said, “I’m grateful. Which way is the ranger station?” she asked Mike. “Right or left?”
Mike looked blank. “You’ve got me,” he said.
“Do you know?” Nancy asked Tod.
Tod frowned. “Not for sure. But I’d say it’s probably that way.” He jerked his thumb to the right.