They were the hope of Columbia High. No other boys ventured to compete with these long-distance runners when they took a notion to do their best. On this occasion they were not thinking of trying to break records, but meant to cover the ground, so as to become familiar with all its features. The course had been plainly mapped out, and in several places the runners were allowed to exercise their discretion about choosing between several methods of arriving at one of the many stations where they were to be registered. That is, if a lad thought he could make better time by crossing the country between two roads, he was given that privilege; though warned that he might get bogged, held up by a marshy stretch of ground, or even lost in the big woods, if not fully familiar with the district. Consequently it was not likely that anyone would take advantage of this choice, but all of them were apt to stick to the main roads, where the going was good. Seeing that his two fellow runners were growing quite curious about the explanation of his assertion, Frank laughed good-naturedly, and remarked: “Well, just wait till I wash the dust down my throat with a good drink at this spring here, and then I’ll tell you what I meant by saying I might stick to Columbia High another year.” “Well, I want to say right now,” remarked Bones Shadduck, as he sucked at a long scratch on his hand, which he had received from a hanging vine in the brush they had just broken through, “that this thing of cutting across country to save a little time doesn’t strike me favorably. In the race I wager I keep close to the roads, and let others take chances of getting mired, or lost, if they want to.” Three minutes later, having refreshed themselves at the cool gurgling spring, the trio of high-school boys stood for a minute or two before starting off again on their jogging run in the direction of the next road. “Now, Frank, keep your promise,” warned Bones. “Yes, I’ll be badgered if I can get head or tail of what he means,” Lanky Wallace declared, shaking his head in a way he had when in doubt. “My folks seem to have an idea that they’d rather I was a year older before I went to college,” Frank began. “Why, that’s funny, but I’ve been hearing a lot along the same line myself at home,” broke in Lanky. “Ditto here,” affirmed Bones Shadduck. “And so they had me talk with Professor Tyson Parke about it,” Frank continued; “and he said that he could arrange a post-graduate course that would take up the better part of the year, and put me in fine fettle for going into the freshman class at college.” “Great scheme!” exclaimed Bones, “and just you see if I don’t put it up to my people at home.”