"I suppose we're out of the running," remarked Bert. "It must be after eight."
"Half-past," said Tom, managing to see the dial of his watch by a lightning flash.
"Ugh!" grunted Jack. "It's all up with us."
In silence they plowed on, and a little later they saw the welcome lights of Elmwood Hall.
"Humph! Late, young gentlemen," remarked Mr. Porter, the proctor, as they filed in the gate. "Report to Doctor Meredith at once."
"It was an accident—we got lost," explained Bert.
"And a crusty old farmer wouldn't show us the road," added Tom.
"I'm sorry, but I can't help it. Report to the doctor," was all the satisfaction they received.
But the head master was not at all unkind about it. He listened to their explanation, and consoled them for their ill luck.
They managed to get something to eat, and then, paying a surreptitious visit to the rooms of some of their chums, they learned that they were fully three-quarters of an hour later in coming back than were the last of the stragglers.