"WELL DONE, BEAVER PATROL!"
They had struck along the road leading from Scranton, and reached the well-known Jerusalem pike, of which mention has been frequently made in previous stories of this series.
As they passed the Stebbens and the Swartz farms the scouts gave a cheer that brought a waving of handkerchiefs from the windows of the houses, which were in plain sight of the road.
Far down in the west the glowing sun was sinking; but Paul had calculated well, and he knew that, barring accidents, they could easily make the town before the king of day passed from sight.
Once they had halted for a few minutes' rest, the last they expected to enjoy, and Paul had taken advantage of the opportunity to start a smoky fire; after which he and Seth, the signal sender of the patrol, used the latter's blanket to send a series of dense smoke clouds soaring upward at certain intervals.
One of the boys who expected to join the second patrol in the early fall, Steve Slimmons, would be on the lookout for this signal that would announce the coming of the weary column; and when he caught sight of the smoke waves it would be his duty to announce that, after all, the scouts had not fallen down in their brave attempt to win that glorious trophy; but were coming right along, and hoped to be on hand in due time.
Well, there would be a good many suppers delayed in and around Beverly on that night, some of the scouts told each other.
They could easily picture the green swarming with people, all watching up the road for the patrol to turn the bend, and come in sight, with unbroken ranks, having fulfilled the conditions of the hike to the letter.
There was no longer any need for Paul to excite the slumbering ambitions of either Eben or Noodles. Why, after they passed the crossroads where the ruins of the old blacksmith shop lay, in which they had held their first meetings, but which had been mysteriously burned down, some thought by mischievous and envious town boys—after they had gone by this well-known spot, and sighted the Scroggins farm beyond, every fellow had actually forgotten such a thing as fatigue. They held themselves up straight, and walked with a springy step that would go far toward indicating that a hundred miles in four days was only play for such seasoned veterans.
And now the outlying houses of the home town began to loom up. Why, to several of the boys it really seemed as though they must have been away for weeks. They eagerly pointed out various objects that were familiar in their eyes, just as if they had feared the whole map of the town might have been altered since they marched away on their little four day tramp.