l Englishman, Shrubb, who astonished
everybody in our own country by his great record some years back. While
hardly reckoned small, Fred Fenton was in just that same class, for his
muscles were as hard as they could possibly be, and he always kept
himself in prime condition for work.

When, after a certain length of time, the four boys arrived at the birch
trees by which Fred had marked the place where they could turn into the
woods in attempting that short-cut, they had seen no other competitor on
the road. No doubt at some time during the day all of those who meant to
take part in the great run expected to cover the whole course, so as to
get familiar with its peculiarities, but Fred and his mates were just as
well pleased not to run across any of them thus early in the morning.

"Now, here's where we want to keep our eyes about us," remarked Fred, "so
as to know the trail by heart. All of us but Sid have already been
across to the other road, but on that account don't think you know it
all. Observe everything around, and make a mental map of the course.
It'll be a great help, I tell you."

"Point out the blazes you were speaking about, so I can watch for them,"
Sid asked them, as they stood there in a bunch, breathing hard, and
cooling off, for it had been a warm run, and the atmosphere felt
unusually heavy.

"There's one good thing," Fred went on to say, "we don't have to pay any
attention to the other side of the trail. What I mean by that is this:
lots of fellows can take notice of how a trail looks, and think they've
got it down pat in their minds, but let them start back over it, and the
landmarks will never be the same, so it's the easiest thing going to get
lost on the return trip, where the blazes you made fail to show. It
happens that we have to pass through here only one way."

"Great Caesar! wasn't that a growl of thunder?" cried Colon in dismay.

"Nothing more nor less than that," replied Fred, "and if thunder stands
for anything, we're going to get that rain after all."

"Shucks! why couldn't the measly old storm have held off till we reached
home?" Bristles wanted to know. "Here we are more'n ten miles away from
town, and dressed in the airiest duds going. If we get soaked, we'll be
shivering like fun."

"What's the answer, Fred? Tell us your opinion, and whether we'd better
turn back, or try to push on through this neck of woodland and marsh?"
When he put this question, Colon betrayed