But now they would arrive after dark, and they would be met by strange professors and college officials (all save Professor Snodgrass), they would be late for supper, and would have no chance to view the college until morning.
“Hang that farmer, anyhow!” murmured Jerry.
“I wish he had to go without his suppers for a week,” added Ned.
“Oh, we’re not so badly off,” declared Bob, as he was munching a sandwich.
“Bob wouldn’t want any one condemned to go without food,” said Jerry. “Well, I suppose it was my own fault in a way. I should have consulted the map after that fellow told us which turn to take. We’ll know better next time.”
“There’s a house,” remarked Ned. “Suppose we inquire there.”
“No!” decided Jerry. “That’s a farmer’s house, and I won’t trust any more farmers. I’ll go on back to the last turn we made. There’s a garage not far from there, and they’ll know the road, that’s sure.”
It was not a long ride back to the place where Jerry felt they had made the wrong turn, and a few minutes more took them to the garage. But it was now quite dark.
“Fordham—um, yes,” said the garage man, reflectively. “I should say you did take the wrong turn!”