to-night,
ready to tramp miles and miles, if anything amusing turns up."

At the first shade by the roadside Dick &. Co. halted for fifteen
minutes to rest.

"Now, each one of you do a little silent thinking," Prescott urged.

"Give us the topic, then," proposed Reade.

"Fellows," Dick went on, mounting a stump and thrusting one hand
inside his flannel shirt, in imitation of the pose of an orator,
"the next year will be an eventful one for all of us. In that
time we shall wind up our courses at the Gridley High School.
From the day that we set forth from Gridley High School we shall
be actively at work creating our careers. We are destined to
become great men, everyone of us!"

"Tell that to the Senate!" mocked Tom Reade.

"Well, then," Dick went on, accepting the doubt of their future
greatness, "we shall, at least, if we are worth our salt, become
useful men in the world, and I don't know but that is very close
to being great. For the man who isn't useful in the world has
no excuse for living. Now, in a little more than another hour,
we shall be treading the pavements of good old Gridley. Let us
do it with a sense of triumph."

"Triumph?" quizzed Tom soberly. "What about?"

"The sense of triumph," Dick retorted, "will arise from the fact
that this is to be the last and biggest year in which we are to
give ourselves the final preparation for becoming either great
or useful men. I'm not going to say any more on this subject.
Perhaps you fellows think I've been talking nonsense on purpose.
I haven't. Neither have I tried to preach to you, for preaching
is out of my line. But, fellows, I hope you all feel, as solemnly
as I do myself, just what this next year must mean to us in work,
in study---in a word, in achievement. It won't do any of us any
harm, once in a while to feel solemn, for five seconds at a time,
over what we are going to do this year to assure our futures."

For once Tom Reade didn't have a jest ready. For once Dalzell
forgot to grin.

The march was taken up again. The next halt was made in Gridley,
thus ending their long training hike, the boys going to their
respective homes.

"Just give three silent cheers, and we won't startle anyone,"
Tom proposed.

"We went out on the trip to harden ourselves," murmured Dave,
"and I must admit that we have all done it."

That evening Dick and Harry Hazelton drove the horse and wagon
over to Tottenville, where the camp wagon was returned