It was arranged that Hudson should choose his day, and give notice of it to the others in the morning. Then the tones of the ancient bell, tolled by the ancient Jones, came from the ancient belfry of Harvard Hall, and Hudson and Gray went over to a recitation in University Hall. When they had gone Burleigh delivered himself of a great whoop of ecstasy. "He can do it easily, I know," he said. "We shall lose our money, but, Great Cæsar, it will be worth the admission. We must get all the others to bet with him, too, so that he won't back out. Let's go and get ready for it at once." "What do you mean?" queried Stoughton, "what are you going to do?" "Can't you guess, Mack, you Eyetalian? Come on, I'll tell you," and they went out over the Square towards a printer's. Three or four days after this Hudson appeared at breakfast in his walking breeches and big Scotch stockings and announced he was going to start. He would leave Harvard Square at half-past ten o'clock and arrive at the town hall in Framingham at half-past four on that afternoon. Stoughton and Gray said that they might be at the finish to receive him, if they found nothing better to do, otherwise he could time himself at the finish. Both of these men had ten o'clock lectures, so they could not see him start. Holworthy and Randolph had promised to make up a four for a morning pull on the river. Rattleton, of course, had not yet come to breakfast. Burleigh also had a ten o'clock that he felt he really ought not to cut (it did not strike Steve at the time that this was no reason to Ned for not cutting); so he regretted exceedingly that he would have to let Steve start off uncheered and time himself. He would endeavor to be at the finish, however, to carry Hudson home. Promptly at half-past ten Steve left Harvard Square, with a swinging stride, and struck up Garden Street by the Washington elm and thence to Brattle Street. He was in fine form and spirits and had chosen his day well. It was one of our glorious, manful November days that have had much to do, I firmly believe, with the progress of this nation; days when a man can do anything; when the sparkling, drinkable Northwester floods your lungs, and swells your chest into a balloon that seems to lift you clear of the ground. On such a day the twenty-four miles ahead of him seemed nothing to Hudson, and he sprang along overflowing with spirits.