“Ditto here,” affirmed Bones Shadduck.
“And so they had me talk with Professor Tyson Parke about it,” Frank continued; “and he said that he could arrange a post-graduate course that would take up the better part of the year, and put me in fine fettle for going into the freshman class at college.”
“Great scheme!” exclaimed Bones, “and just you see if I don’t put it up to my people at home.”
“Count on me to do the same,” remarked Lanky, enthusiastically. “Why, it would sort of break the school ties piecemeal, you see; and, besides, when you take a post-graduate course, you only go for an hour or so a day. That gives a fellow loads of time to take exercise outdoors. And I need a heap of that, believe me.”
“What do you say about starting on again?” asked Frank.
“How far do you think it is to that road?” Bones queried, sucking again at his bleeding hand, so that he might extract the last atom of poison that had come from the scratch of the creeper.
“Oh! about a mile, I reckon,” Frank made answer, as they began to run.
“Only hope it’s better going than the last one, then; that was fierce,” Bones went on to say, as he fell into his regular jogging pace, which the boys declared he could keep up for an unlimited number of hours; very much after the style of the Indian runners from Carlisle School, who got it from their ancestors, those dusky messengers who would journey hundreds of miles through dense forests, over mountains and deserts, with little or no rest.
“Looks like we might have a snap here for a change,” remarked Lanky, as they arrived on the border of what seemed to be a large pasture, which told that they were now on some farm where stock were kept.
So they mounted the rail fence. Frank remembered noticing at the time that this was built especially strong, and seemed to be even higher than usual; but then, as his mind was upon other subjects, he paid little attention to the fact.