“Sleep out of doors? Why, on wet ground, yes, I presume it would.” He looked questioningly at Sam. “I was thinking that we might have a hike, sir.” “A hike,” repeated the Chief thoughtfully. “I don’t know, Craig. You see----” “That’s what they need, Chief,” said Mr. Gifford. “What’s your idea, Sam?” “Well, I thought we might select a place say five or six miles away, divide the fellows into two parties and set out with blankets and grub and see which party could get there first. There might be some sort of prize or reward. Of course, it would mean sleeping outdoors----” “But if the parties started out together it would just be a race, wouldn’t it?” objected Mr. Gifford. “Pretty strenuous, I’m afraid, Sam.” “I thought we could set out different ways, perhaps. We could see that the fellows didn’t overdo it. The idea would be to get there first, but in good condition. That would mean resting along the way, taking the easiest routes, and so on. It’s just a suggestion. And I don’t know anything about the country around here. Maybe it wouldn’t do.” “I say,” exclaimed Steve Brown, “isn’t there a picnic-ground or something of that sort over at Miles, Chief? Seems to me I remember a big open building near the railway.” “Yes, a park they used to hold Chautauquas in. You mean we could sleep there, eh? Not a bad idea. In fact, the scheme sounds good. What do you think?” “Excellent,” voted Mr. Haskins. “And I’d like it myself first-rate. My legs certainly need stretching.” “We’d have to take blankets and eats, wouldn’t we?” asked Steve. “And some cooking things, too, I suppose. Or we might find some place to feed over there.” “It would be more fun for the boys if we cooked our own grub,” said Mr. Gifford. “Let’s do it, Chief!” “Well, by Jove, we will! And I’ll go along. Now let’s figure on rations and luggage.” And that is how the Marathon Picnic, as the boys called it, came about. Shortly after dinner--siesta being disregarded that day--the boys congregated in The Wigwam and the plan, of which they had already caught an inkling, was explained to them. It met with instant acclaim. Had the Chief suggested a trip to the North Pole they would have welcomed it. Mr. Gifford and Sam alternately selected members for the rival parties until every boy had a place on the “Reds” or the “Blues,” as they chose to call them. Mr. Haskins was finally drawn by Mr. Gifford and Steve Brown by Sam. Mr. Langham, when they set out, elected to throw in his lot with the “Reds,” Mr. Gifford’s party. Every fellow rolled up his blanket, tied the ends together and slipped it over a shoulder. Then he donned his raincoat. Food and a few cooking utensils were apportioned out and went into pockets or were slung over shoulders, and a tin cup graced every belt. At half-past two all was ready for the start. CHAPTER VIII THE “BLUES” WIN!