Following the extremely early breakfast, the usual noonday lunch was looked forward to with no little impatience as the morning advanced. Phil had suggested that no pause be made until a small river, shown on the map to be not many miles distant, was reached, and the others agreed. Nevertheless a wagon, en route to some market with strawberries, was so much of a temptation that the car was halted and two baskets of the fine fruit were purchased. The contents of one of these disappeared in a manner well calculated to make adherents of Fletcherism hold up their hands in amazement, had any such been near--which assuredly there were not, or not in the automobile, at least. The second basket Billy Worth simply put away to be enjoyed with the regular noon luncheon; nor would all of Paul's and Dave's coaxing soften his stony-hearted determination. Billy, it will be remembered, was the cook and general chief of the commissary department. As such he possessed in a strong degree the trait, peculiar to those offices, of always being ready to repel too severe a raid upon the larder between meals and always keen to add some delicacy to the commissary's store. And maybe Billy's idea was the right one. Certain it is that when the river bridge was crossed at last and the noon camp was made under some willows just beyond, nothing could be finer than the deliciously fresh berries with sugar and cream. Phil brought the latter from a farmhouse on the hill above and a still larger supply of good, rich milk. With the fruit, bread and butter, cheese, crackers and the last of the boiled ham, the repast was ample in both quantity and enjoyment. "Only wish we had that other quart of strawberries," sighed Paul Jones, longingly. "Of course you do, p-i-g! Lucky to have _any_!" Billy reminded him. "Provisions are going to be a thing to look out for on this trip." "Well spoken, my boy; well spoken!" responded Paul, with patronizing air; but Phil put in, "No joke about that. Nothing nearer the Ship woods than Gilroy and that's six or seven miles away. No telling, either, how far back in the woods we may be." "Great Columbus, Phil! Don't talk that way! You'll give Bill nervous prostration!" exclaimed MacLester, rising and starting to look the car over. "On the job here, you fellows, if you're going with me!" he added briskly. For Mac was driving to-day and the responsibility of covering yet another sixty miles before sundown, and over roads some of which might be extremely bad, rested on his shoulders.