“Why, yes—Andrewsville!” cried Boxy. “It must be about three miles from here.”
“Then we’ll try to get to that place,” said Sully. “We can take the cars from there to Bagsville, where we can try to get our traps back, and then go from Bagsville to Rudskill. I don’t want any more tramping through the woods—at least not during the winter.”
During the remainder of that day all hands took it easy. The sun shone brightly, and on every side the snow went down as if by magic.
Early next morning all hands were stirring around the fire. Spencer felt once more like himself, and the unfortunate trio determined to set out for Andrewsville without delay. A good breakfast was had, and then Sully, Dixon and Spencer bid the members of the Zero Club good-by.
It was a trying moment when the bully and his companions offered to shake hands all around.
“I—I hope you fellows have the best kind of a time,” he said, in a low voice. “As for ourselves, we—we didn’t deserve it, and that’s all there is to it,” and off he strode; and a moment later the trio were gone out of sight, beyond the bend that led down the lake.
A long breath of relief went around. Everybody wanted to say something about the departed ones, but, somehow, the right words wouldn’t just come, and all were silent.
The sun was shining as it had the day previous, but it was colder. Jack and Andy had tried the snow about the camp, and found it everywhere covered with a heavy crust.
“Good! Now, if we can fit our boots with some sort of flat strips of wood, we can walk on most of the snow without much difficulty,” said Jack.
“I’ve got an idea,” said Harry, slowly. “I move we strike camp and spend the balance of our outing in some other locality.”