"Fifteen miles!" came from Sam Heller. "That's a stiff run all right."
"I should say yes," agreed Nick Johnson.
"Can't we shorten it in some way?" asked Sam of his crony in a whisper, but not so low that Tom did not overhear him.
"Dry up!" commanded Nick. "I'll see. Maybe we can cut off a few miles. Fifteen is too much!"
"He sure is working us," said Jack to Tom.
"And a time limit," added Bert, with a note of grievance in his voice.
"Oh pshaw!" exclaimed, Tom. "Anyone would think you fellows had never tramped before. Why in camp you thought nothing of doing twenty miles in a day."
"But we could take our time," asserted Bert.
"Nonsense! We always did better than four miles an hour and never minded it. Come on, be sports! We'll go together, won't we?"
"Sure," said Bert. "Well, if it has to be, it has to—that's all.
Hang it! I wonder if I want to play football anyhow?"