pany of pines.

"It was worth it! It was worth it," exclaimed the seniors, now that the
worst was over.

The class had divided itself into three "messes" for lunch. After lunch
it was to assemble in a body, sing the class songs to be bequeathed to
the juniors, and do the class stunts which were familiar enough to all
of them now. And first of all, by the unwritten law of custom, the
seniors were to spend an hour communing with nature. This constituted
the "Ramble." Judy had been delegated by the Ramble Committee to blow a
blast on her trumpet when the time came to eat. In the meantime the
drivers had taken themselves and their wagons down the road two miles to
a small village where they were to rest and refresh themselves with food
until half past four o'clock, when they were to return for the rambling
seniors.

So it was that the three hampers of food were deposited in a safe and
secluded spot under some bushes and left unguarded while everybody went
off for the ramble.

Of course all this had been planned weeks ahead of time by the committee
and the destination kept a profound secret, according to the traditions
of the school.

Scarcely had the last unsuspecting senior disappeared in the pine woods,
when a motor car rounded the curve in the road and stopped at the signal
of an individual in a long dark ulster and a slouch hat well down over
the face, who had leaped out from behind a clump of bushes on the other
side of the road. Two other persons similarly disguised now jumped out
of the car, leaving the chauffeur quietly examining the speedometer and
seeing nothing.

"Do you know where they put them?" whispered one.

The other did not reply, but led the way at a run to the clump of bushes
where the hampers had been left. In five minutes the three thieves, for
such they certainly were, had stored the hampers on the floor of the
car. Then they jumped in themselves.

"Go ahead!" cried the thief on the front seat, and presently the motor
car was a mere speck in the distance.

In the meantime, the unconscious seniors rambled happily on. There were
places to visit in the woods: a beautiful spring that bubbled out of the
side of a rock and broadened into a basin below; an old log cabin, long
since deserted and open to the weather, and last of all, "Charlie's
Oak." Half a century ago, an Exmoor boy had hanged himself on this tree.
Another Exmoor boy, many years later, had carved a cross on the tree and
by that si