“O, well,” said Phil, as he and the other boys left the sweeps which Turnbull and Wade, however, still kept working. “I suppose there’s nothing left to do but to turn in.”
“It can’t be helped,” said Arthur.
“We’ll have to make the best of it,” said Tom.
“I say, boys,” said Bruce, “why can’t we take the boat and row to Chester?”
“A good idea,” cried Arthur. “Capital. I only wish we’d done it before.”
“Captain,” said Tom, “we’re going to take the boat.”
“Hadn’t you better wait a little,” said the anxious Corbet, who was evidently not pleased with the proposal.
“O there’s no use; we want to get to Chester to-night. You’ll get along before morning. How many miles is it from here?” he asked, turning to Turnbull.
“Four,” said that taciturn individual.
“Four miles. Well, boys, what do you say?”