“All right, only I don’t feel much like tramping through the woods and fields in the dark and barefooted,” objected Fenn. “Why not stay here until it’s light enough to see where we are going?”
After talking it over they decided this was the best plan. It was too risky tramping about in an unknown locality, especially without some protection for their feet. Bart walked back away from the river. Then he called to his chums:
“Here’s a hay field, fellows. It’s been cut but hasn’t been cocked up yet. Come on, we’ll make a pile of it and crawl in to get warm.”
It was a good suggestion. The half-cured grass made a warm nest for the thinly clad boys, and they huddled down together in a big mound of the fragrant hay, pulling it over themselves until they were hidden from sight, leaving only a little hole to breathe through. It was so warm and comfortable that they speedily fell asleep.
The sun was shining when they awakened. Bart sprang up, scattering the hay all about, and his companions followed.
“Oh, for a bit of breakfast!” Fenn remarked.
“‘So say we all of us,’” chanted Bart.
“There’s a chance of it!” exclaimed Ned.
“What?”
“Breakfast!” and he pointed to a little village about half a mile away.