"It's camp out or nothing for me. That is what we planned to do and if we don't find a place where we can do what cooking we have to do, I'll get a room somewhere and pick up meals as best I can. Then if I run out of money I'm going to get a job at something or another till the races come off. Might as well see them, while we're there. Our chasing Phil Way and his bunch isn't going to amount to anything anyway—nothing more than that they won't be able to say they saw the Gold Cup and we didn't."
"You stick to me, Fred. We'll make Gaines do as we all agreed. We are going to find Worth and Way and those fellows and we're going to have some fun with 'em. We can rough it just as well as they can and if Gaines don't like it—"
"Oh, fiddle! You dream miracles and talk wonders! And it stops there," Perth exclaimed, but only half seriously. Then, "What you say is all right, Pick, but you won't stand by it."
"By the old bean porridge pot, Perth! You're the most contrary monkey I ever saw!" was Pickton's ejaculation. "I'll stand by every word I've said!"
But whether he did or whether he didn't subsequent chapters will show. For the present it is essential to state that beside a thick hedge, where the ground was level and the grass deep—and very wet with dew, in consequence—a camping place was found. Not one of the Auto Boys would have chosen such a spot. There was no water near, no trees beneath which the ground would be comparatively dry. The thorns of the hedge, also, where dead branches had fallen, might be encountered just when one least expected them.
No, Billy Worth or Phil, Paul or Dave would not have picked this place even in the dark. Pickton and Perth would not have done so either, had they possessed half the knowledge and experience the Auto Boys had gained in matters of this kind.
It was eleven o'clock by Freddy Perth's watch. For an hour or more the night air had felt quite cool, in the automobile, and thoughts of warm blankets and sleep were pleasant ones as camp was established at the point described, despite the objectionable features named.
Far back in Sagersgrove the town clock was striking the hour. Eli Gouger turned restlessly in his sleep and half awakened. "Might have had two, or maybe four dollars apiece out of 'em just as well as not, if that good-for-nothing Petersby hadn't had to get his dinner 'fore coming with me," he growled, as indeed he had been growling for some time. "Get his dinner! The blamed calf! He's a great one to be a constable, he is!"