"How much are you going to charge us?" demanded Mott who did not plan to be caught again by the "guilelessness" of any of the people of the region. "Oh, I sha'n't charge ye anything. Glad t' do ye the favor," responded the farmer heartily. In a brief time his car was ready, and, acting upon his suggestion, the boys at once took their places on the seat, and the driver soon was briskly speeding down the roadway. Conversation lagged, for the boys were somewhat wearied by their long tramp and the young farmer was silent, doubtless anxious over the illness in his home. When a brief time had elapsed he deposited the boys on the platform of the little station at the Junction, and again declining any offer on their part to pay for the service he had rendered them at once departed in his search for the physician. Approaching the little window in the ticket office Mott inquired, "What's the next train we can get for Winthrop?" "No more trains to-night," responded the man without looking up from the noisy clicker over which he was bending. "No more trains?" "That's what I said. The last one passed here fifteen minutes ago." "Isn't there any way we can get there?" "I s'pose there is." "What is it?" demanded Mott eagerly. "Walk." "How far is it?" "Seven miles." "And there's no other way?" "You won't be the first that have counted the ties between Junction and Winthrop." "Isn't there a freight train that comes along pretty soon?" inquired Will. "There's one that's due in 'bout an hour. But you never can depend on it. It may be here in an hour and it may be three hours. You never can tell." "What shall we do, Phelps?" inquired Mott, turning sharply to his companion. "I don't care much, but I believe it would be better for us to start. It isn't so very far and besides it'll be good for our longevity and help us for the meet." There was an exclamation of anger from Mott who doubtless had become somewhat sensitive to the frequent references to his favorite expression of the day, but he made no protest and the two boys at once started up the track. Both were hungry and weary but the distance must be traversed, and there was no time or breath to waste in complaining. Steadily they trudged onward, the monotony of the walk increased by the deepening darkness. They had been gone from the station only about an hour when the shrill screech of the whistle from a locomotive approaching from behind them was heard, and in a few minutes the long and noisy freight train thundered past them.