Tom Fairfield's Pluck and Luck Part 11

"All right," a.s.sented Tom. "Shall we pa.s.s 'em now, or later?"

"Oh, wait a bit," said Bert. "Let's get our second wind, first."

This suited the others, and they jogged along at an easy pace. The day was pleasant, not too warm, and there was a refreshing breeze when one got on the hilltops. The run was through a rolling country, and the roads were in good condition.

"Say, this is fun!" exclaimed Bert, when they had covered the first half mile. "I like it better than I thought I would."

"Wait a bit," advised Jack. "It hasn't half started yet. When you've done about ten miles the next five will seem twice as long."

On they swung, down a slope that made for easy going. When they topped the next rise Jack uttered an exclamation:

"There are a couple of lads just ahead of us," he said, pointing down in a small valley into which the runners must now descend.

"And if they aren't Sam h.e.l.ler and his crony I'm a goat!" said Tom.

"That's Sam's run, all right."

"So it is," agreed Bert. "Shall we make a sprint and pa.s.s 'em?"

"Oh, there's time enough yet," said George. "Don't let's rush things."

They accepted this easy way out of it, and, as a matter of fact, none of them cared very much about pa.s.sing Sam and Nick. They jogged down the slope, to strike a level stretch, and, by this time, Sam and his companion were out of sight beyond a turn in the road.

"There's Aldenhurst!" exclaimed Tom at length, as they came in view of a small but pretty village.

"And if there isn't a soda water stand in it I'm going to make a complaint to the police!" gasped Bert. "I'm as dry as a fish."

"Don't fill up on trash," advised Tom. "The rules said that was bad to do;" for a few simple directions as to the best way of making the run had been circulated by Coach Jackson.

"Well, I'm going to swab out with seltzer, anyhow," declared Jack, "rules or no rules."

"Oh, I guess that won't hurt," admitted Tom, and a little later they had lined up before a crossroads grocery, in front of which was the magical sign: "Ice Cold Soda!"

"Ginger ale! Birch beer! Sasp'rilla! Cream sody!" rattled off the snub-nosed and freckle-faced lad behind the counter, when our four friends filed in and asked for some cool drink. "That's all I've got."

"Any seltzer?" asked Tom, who knew the risk of taking into an over-heated system the artificially flavored and colored concoctions that pa.s.s current as summer drinks.

"Seltzer?" queried the lad. "Do you mean that there fizzy stuff that squirts all over when you press down on the handle of the bottle?"

"That's her!" laughed Jack. "Pa.s.s it out--if it's cold."

"Oh, it's cold all right, but n.o.body around here likes it," volunteered the lad. "I took some once, and it tasted like salt water with needles in it. I'd rather have strawberry pop."

"Seltzer's good for your system, son. Pa.s.s it out," ordered Tom, with a laugh at the description of the mineral water, and the lad went to a big refrigerator where, after moving out some tubs of b.u.t.ter, and some bottles of milk, he came upon the seltzer which he set before our heroes.

"That's good!" exclaimed Tom, as he drained his gla.s.s, and then, after a brief rest, they started off on the cross-country run again, waving farewell to the lad who had so aptly characterized the seltzer.

They crossed the river at Weldon, and circled up the hill to Marsden.

There the going was stiff, and they realized why Jackson had given them such leeway in time, for the slope was a steep one.

"This is good for our legs," remarked Jack, as he plodded on.

"Yes, and Sam and Nick seem to be still ahead of us," remarked Tom.

"They're keeping up well--better than I thought they would."

"Unless they've taken a short cut," suggested George.

"They have to check in at Marsden," said Bert.

"Well, they may take a cut there. However, it doesn't matter," said Tom.

It was beginning to get dusk now, the September days being short.

There were about five miles of the run left when the four lads paused at a wayside farmhouse located at the fork of the highway to make sure they were on the right route to reach the river road.

"Yes, you kin git to it this way," remarked a tall, lanky lad, who was hanging over the front gate, seemingly waiting for someone. "There's a bad hill, though."

"Is there any other road to the river?" asked Tom.

"Yes, you kin cut through the woods, and it's level all the way," was the answer. "I'd take that road."

"But we don't want a _shorter_ way," said Tom quickly. "We're doing a school endurance run," he explained, "and we have to cover just so many miles. We don't want to cheat."

"Oh, you won't cheat," chuckled the farm lad. "If any thing it's longer through them woods," and he pointed to a patch of forest just ahead. "There's a wagon road through them trees, that comes out on the river road. The only difference is that it cuts off the hill."

"Then let's take it!" suggested Jack. "I hate hills, and it's all right as long as we cover the distance. There's no more checking to be done until we hit the gym. I say let's take to the woods."

"All right," agreed Tom. "Is the path a plain one?" he asked the lad.

"We don't want to get lost."

"Oh, yes, it's plain enough. A couple of other fellows pa.s.sed here a while ago, and I told them about it."

"Sam h.e.l.ler, and Nick, I'll wager!" exclaimed Bert.

"Sure," a.s.sented Jack. "Much obliged," he called to the farm lad, as the four struck off toward the woods.

"Maybe you won't be--after a bit," murmured the lad, as he turned away from the gate, a twinkle coming into his pig-like eyes. "I earned that dollar easy enough--jest directin' 'em to the wood-road," and he looked at a bill crumpled in his hand. "I never made money any easier. Them two fellers, jest ahead, who told me to direct the next bunch into the woods, must have lots of coin. I guess it'll be a while afore them four lads strike the river, goin' through the woods," and, chuckling, he went into the house, after a look at Tom and his chums.

"Say it's going to be dark before we get back," remarked George, when they were well within the woods. "I wonder if we can see?"

"Sure," a.s.serted Tom. "The trees are cut away at the top and it's going to be moonlight a little later. This is a good road, and, even if it's longer than the other, we cut off a big hill. We can explain how we came to take it, and it's fair as long as we do the distance."

"If we only get in on time," murmured Bert.

"Oh, I guess we will," said Jack.

Together they jogged on. It became more and more dark, and, as the wood road was not in the best of condition, they stumbled over roots and tree branches. But, as Tom said, it was light enough to see their way fairly well.

"Say!" exclaimed Jack, after nearly an hour spent in tramping the woodland path, "this doesn't seem just right. The road is narrower than it was at first."