Possibly it is true that in anticipation there is more pleasure than in realization, yet few people actually believe it. Certainly Phil Way and his friends did not. They had anticipated a lot of fun in this tour now under way at last, but one of its merriest features they had not foreseen at all. This was the keen delight they had in having given Gaines, Pickton and Perth the slip so nicely. Indeed, their self-satisfaction over this incident was quite beyond measure, and Dave MacLester found no support whatever when he advanced a supposition that the telegram to be picked up in Sagersgrove would say the Chosen Ones were in pursuit and probably not far behind. "Anyhow, we'll know all about it in about two and a half flicks of a bobolink's tail," said Billy Worth, "for if that church spire up over the trees yonder isn't Sagersgrove, I'm blind." Fortunately, then, for young Mr. Worth's eyes, the spire rising above the banks of green a half mile beyond, was that of the Methodist church of the town he named. In a very brief time it had been reached, also, and from a very neat and clean old gentleman, who might have been the preacher himself, although he was mowing the small church lawn, the lads inquired their way to the telegraph office. Fortunately, again, it was not at all difficult to find one's way about in Sagersgrove. The telegraph office was in the wing of the operator's home, "down the street two blocks, then turn to your left two blocks--a little brown house, set low to the ground. You'll see the white and blue sign." Three minutes later Phil Way emerged from the side door of the identical house the old gentleman described. He held up to expectant view a yellow envelope, then opened the same, and, one foot on the running board, read in a low tone: To Phil Way and Party, Sagersgrove. Know you have gone. Don't know where. Rushing around crazy. "Wow!" yelled Paul Jones, with cheery emphasis. Which expression, although seeming to betray no very great depth of intellect, or to communicate any very particular intelligence, did appear to express the feelings of the Auto Boys to a nicety. CHAPTER V CAMPING ON A STRANGE ROAD Jubilant and expressive though it may have been, Paul Jones' "wow," was very far from being all the Auto Boys had to say concerning the telegram received. In general they shared Paul's mirthful feelings. With a very human kind of pleasure they let their minds dwell upon Gaines' sullen wrath and Pickton's chagrin and disappointment. The condition of bewilderment and utter discomfiture which would be natural to Freddy Perth was also easily imagined. In short, it was with real delight that the boys pictured the Trio confronted by the discovery that they had been out-generaled; left like a squad of raw recruits hopelessly drilling around the field, looking for the beginning of the battle that was all over long ago.