By the time the next rest was taken some straggling was already in evidence. Several of the younger fellows showed a disposition to slow down, and Sam and Steve decided that at the next stop the party should be divided into the two squads as planned. It was then nearly twenty minutes to four and they judged that they had covered about three miles and a half, although as no one had a pedometer save young Chase, and his was, as he explained, absolutely unreliable, this estimate was mostly guesswork and, as indicated later, probably too great by the better part of a mile. At five minutes past four, they having then struck fairly westward once more, with, as they believed, the lower end of the lake well behind them, another halt was called and Steve recruited for his rear-guard. Strangely, however, few of the nineteen would allow that they were at all tuckered. Horace Chase and Billy White confessed to blistered heels, but were all for keeping up with the first group. The councillors had to take matters into their own hands and, using their best judgment, relegate eight of the nineteen to the rear squad. Most of the eight objected strenuously. They felt themselves utterly disgraced. Mutiny was in the air and the two councillors had to be very stern and short-spoken before affairs were finally settled. Then Sam with his eleven started off a bit more briskly and Steve, waving a laughing good-bye and threatening to get there first, after all, held his overeager and disgruntled squad to what they grumblingly assured him was a snail’s-pace. There was less talking now in the ranks. Fellows had found it wise to husband their breath, for the road had grown muddy and wet and the walking was harder. The rear squad soon dropped from sight around a turn and Sam’s party, pushing forward at a good rate of speed, began to look for signs of civilisation. But another half-hour passed, with its accompanying rest--only two or three minutes this time--before they caught sight of their first house. It was a deserted cabin perched on a gravelly hill just off the road. But even the sight of an empty house was welcome, since it seemed to promise a settlement, near at hand. And, a quarter of an hour later, the settlement, such as it was, appeared. There was a country store and half a dozen houses in it, and Sam called a halt while he entered the store to make inquiries. Several of the boys went inside with him, while the others seated themselves on the edge of the rickety platform outside to rest. The only occupant of the store was an elderly man who hobbled forward with the aid of a hickory stick. He was very deaf and Sam was forced to twice repeat his question before the store-keeper sensed it. Then he grinned a toothless grin and asked: “On foot, be ye?” Sam assured him that they were and the old man shook his head. “It’s a goodish way to Miles,” he said. “Most four miles, I guess, by the road.”