"But he must be tired by now, and say he's made six, wouldn't that about fill the bill, Elmer?"
"We'll call it six, just for fun, and let it go at that. Look out for Felix about this time. He ought to still be half an hour behind the leader."
"Unless the conditions have changed a whole lot, which I don't think has happened," Toby called.
Elmer had even considered dropping off while passing through Rockledge, just to find out when Felix entered his name and time of arrival. But on second thought he decided that it did not matter much anyway; since it was not the persistent work of Felix that bothered them half so much as what the plotters meant to do.
Thirty-two miles' walk was something worth while for boys who had never made any pretense of being skilled pedestrians; and even the slowest in the bunch, George and Angus McDowd, need not be ashamed, after having tramped over twenty miles since sunrise, without any previous experience and no preparation, such as old walkers of the Weston and O'Leary type practice before starting on a long hike.
A short time after leaving Rockledge, they believed that they must have reached the thirty-five-mile stage.
Elmer gave his horn a little toot, that being his way of signaling to his comrades that he had sighted something ahead.
"Is it Felix?" asked Toby, fearful lest the reply might indicate that Lil Artha had fallen back to second in the race, and the sturdy Dutchman beat him out.
"It isn't our chum, anyhow," Elmer answered; "because he lacks half a foot of being as tall. Yes, it must be Felix Wagner."
"He's walking strong, Elmer!" declared Toby, anxiously.