Sam shrugged. “I don’t believe so. As near as I can figure it, we’ve done about nine miles, and I guess the younger chaps will be pretty well fagged. Queer how you got by your first squad, though.” “Mighty queer,” agreed the other. “There was only one place----” He stopped and gazed toward the entrance. Sam’s eyes followed. Out from the grove moved a group of boys. “There they are now,” said Sam. “Only----” But further speech was drowned by the shout that went up from the assembled “Blues.” Over the rail or down the steps they fled to meet the arrivals, a small band of eight youths led by a councillor who came across the turf with a springy, unwearied step. Sam stared in surprise. They weren’t “Reds” at all! They were---- “You win,” said Mr. Haskins, with a chuckle. CHAPTER IX DOUGHNUTS IN THE RAIN “Why, Sam, we took a chance,” Steve Brown was explaining a few minutes later. “I got your message all right, but that road didn’t look good to me. So Chase shinned a tree on a hill and had a look around and said he could see this building plainly about two miles away. And we decided that if we were to beat you fellows to it we’d better cut across lots. So we did. Had a bit of tough going for half a mile or so and then found the lake and followed a sort of path that led along the edge of it till we struck a good road down there. Came through the village, made sure we were headed right, and--here we are! How long have you been here?” “Not more than quarter of an hour,” said Sam. “I wish I’d had the sense to think of that tree business, Steve. I’ll bet you we’ve walked ten miles this afternoon!” Steve chuckled. “Don’t you care, Sam. We beat the “Reds” to it. What sort of roads did you find, Mr. Haskins?” “Very good, most of the way. Pretty wet and muddy in places, but not half bad. I can’t imagine, though, what became of the others. We lost sight of them about four o’clock, and----” “You’ll soon know what happened,” interrupted Sam, “for here they come now!” It was a weary and footsore band that detached itself from the gloom of the trees and approached through the drizzling rain. Mr. Langham was limping badly and many of the boys literally dragged their feet. Mr. Gifford’s smile was a bit grim as he waved a reply to the shout of welcome. “Better late than never,” said Mr. Haskins. “What happened, Gifford?” “Lost our way somehow. Don’t ask us where we’ve been. We don’t know. Of all beastly country----!”