?"

"Yes, it's something like thirty miles, I should say, Elmer, and it
takes that boy Johnny a day and a night to get to our place with his
load, all down-grade, too. You remember that Hen Condit never was
anything to brag of in the line of a long-distance walker."

"He may have made up his mind that he had to do some tall sprinting,"
said the other, "when he realized what a hornets' nest he'd stirred up
back there."

"Yeth," remarked Ted Burgoyne who had been listening to all this talk
with certain ideas of his own, "and lots of times it ithn't tho very
hard to get a lift on the road. Wagons and autoth happen along, you
know, and the farmers around here are thoft things, you thee."

"I was just going to say that same thing, Ted," Elmer remarked, "when
you took the very words out of my mouth. Yes, they may have had a
lift; or else Hen had to stretch himself to do the tallest walking of
his career. All of which is based on the supposition that they did
come away up here, and are hiding right now somewhere about Sassafras
Swamp."

"You're figuring on what Johnny said, eh, Elmer?" asked Mark.

"I'm figuring on a whole lot of things," replied the other; "and among
them is the fact that some unknown man has been using the swamp for a
hiding-place of late."

"P'raps we'll learn a heap more about it after we stwike the farm we're
heading for," suggested Ted.

"And there, if you look now you can see the house among those trees,
with smoke coming out of the chimney at the kitchen end," said Elmer,
pointing ahead.

Lil Artha deliberately took chances by removing one hand from the
lines, and vigorously rubbing his stomach with it.

"Oh! I know something of what bully suppers farmers' wives c'n serve
up," he hastened to say, throwing all the longing he could into looks
and words; "and here's hoping we get an invite to stay over there till
morning. If they are very pressing, Elmer, I entreat you not to hurry
us off. Things can wait that long, and we don't expect to do much in
the night-time, you remember."

The patrol leader made no rash promises. He simply smiled, and started
to talk of other subjects; so poor Lil Artha, who did feel so empty
after such a little lunch by the wayside, was left in suspense.

"What's this farmer's name?" asked Toby.

"Trotter," replied Elmer. "You know Johnny Spreen is really a bound
boy, and he has to work for the farmer until he gets a certain age,
when he is supposed to b