“No, second. Goodness knows where the rest are. We’ve been here nearly an hour. Either they took the wrong road or we did. We haven’t seen them since about four o’clock!”
Sam smiled. “How many of you are there?” he asked.
“Only eleven,” replied Mr. Haskins ruefully. “You’ve got us beaten, I guess, unless the Chief and Gifford show up soon. I suppose your second squad will be right along?”
Sam shrugged. “I don’t believe so. As near as I can figure it, we’ve done about nine miles, and I guess the younger chaps will be pretty well fagged. Queer how you got by your first squad, though.”
“Mighty queer,” agreed the other. “There was only one place——”
He stopped and gazed toward the entrance. Sam’s eyes followed. Out from the grove moved a group of boys. “There they are now,” said Sam. “Only——”
But further speech was drowned by the shout that went up from the assembled “Blues.” Over the rail or down the steps they fled to meet the arrivals, a small band of eight youths led by a councillor who came across the turf with a springy, unwearied step. Sam stared in surprise. They weren’t “Reds” at all! They were——
“You win,” said Mr. Haskins, with a chuckle.