"We are well rid of them, I should say," replied his wife. "They may not have come this way. The milkman did not see them, did he?"
The baker's reply was lost, for the horse had reached the hilltop, where he broke into a canter.
It was some minutes before the children dared to creep out of the bushes again.
"One thing is sure," said Henry, when he got his breath. "We will not go to Townsend."
"And we will go to Intervale," said Jess.
With a definite goal in mind at last, the children set out again with a better spirit. They walked until two o'clock in the morning, stopping often this time to rest and to drink from the horses' watering troughs. And then they came upon a fork in the road with a white signpost shining in the moonlight.
"Townsend, four miles; Intervale, six miles," read Henry aloud. "Any one feel able to walk six more miles?"
He grinned. No one had the least idea how far they had already walked.
"We'll go that way at least," said Jess finally.
"That we will," agreed Henry, picking up his brother for a change, and carrying him "pig-back."