Suddenly as they ran on, they were arrested by a cry from Phil. They turned instantly, and were horrified at the sight that met their eyes. Phil, being the smallest and weakest, had fallen behind, and, being out of breath, had loitered a few paces so as to recover, thinking that he would catch up. Feeling a pain in his side, he had stopped to fasten his belt tighter around his waist, and without thinking he had stood motionless for a minute. In that minute his feet had sunk in the treacherous soil. In his sudden fright at this discovery, he had cried out, and made a desperate effort to extricate himself. With a jerk he had drawn forth one foot, but the other had sunk in up to his knee. And this was the position in which he stood when the others turned. Another minute and they were by his side, pulling at him. But as they pulled, each one found himself sinking. “Here, boys, this won’t do,” cried Bart. “Phil, give me your hand. Boys, form a line behind me, one after another. Now let’s catch hold of one another. Now, let’s keep moving backward and forward, quickly, #so as not to stand still. Now, then, pull!” Backward and forward the line of boys, thus rapidly formed, went swaying, pulling Phil as they did so. The clinging mud yielded, and Phil was slowly dragged forth. But his boot was left behind. “Never mind the boot,” cried Bart. “Come on as you are,--one shoe off, and the other one on, tol de roi de rido, my son John! Hurrah! Phil, go ahead of me, and I’ll guard the rear.” All this time, while Bart was speaking, they were running on, Phil limping with his booted and bootless feet. . “Never mind, Phil! we’ll soon get to a place where you can take off the other boot,” said Bart, encouragingly. And now began the tug. Their run had been a long one, and their exertions excessive. All of them were out of breath, and panting heavily. The distance still before them was great; but they dared not stop; they dared not even pause for am instant, or slacken their progress in any degree. Phil was most exhausted, but he toiled on with desperate exertions. The memory of his lost boot showed him his danger. That boot left behind remained as a terror, which drove him on. On and still on. Fainter grew the boys, but they dared not stop. All of them were panting, and laboring heavily, but no relief was near. Far off still lay the marsh with its grass--a fearful distance to those so exhausted, and still compelled to labor so hard. “I don’t know how much longer I can stand this,” gasped Tom. “You _must_ stand it! Don’t stop, for your life!” cried Bruce. The others said nothing. To speak would be but to waste their precious breath, which they were losing only too rapidly. On and on. Still the soft mud lay beneath them, and an awful fear came to some of them that it was getting softer. The fear was soon realized.