“You can turn back, if you want to,” commented Tom, grimly. “Back to bread and water.”
“Not for mine!” exclaimed Bert Wilson.
“Me for a hot meal in town,” declared Tom. “I’ll stand treat if any fellows are short of cash.”
“Good!” cried several, as they trudged on.
It did not take very long to make the lads aware that they were in for a bad time. The snow was drifted heavily and the road to town, never good at the best, was almost impassable. As Tom had predicted, the trolley cars had long since ceased running, and there was not a vehicle track to be seen in the darkness, that was but faintly relieved by the white snow.
“We’re going to have a hard pull of it,” commented Jack, as he floundered to Tom’s side.
“That’s right. I wish we had had a better night for the escape, but we had to take our chance.”
“Oh, of course. But it will be all right when we strike the town, and get some hot coffee. How far is it, anyhow?”
“Oh, about two miles, I guess.”
“Two miles of this!” groaned Jack, as he bent his head to a particularly fierce blast. “It’s heavy going.”