"Oh, gracious me! There goes my blanket!" cried Nita, as the article slipped from her back and fell in the grass.
Just as Zan stooped to hold the candle so Nita could see where to take hold of the blanket, a puff of wind snuffed it completely out.
"Pshaw! Did you ever see the likes!" growled Zan.
"Here, light it at mine!" called Miss Miller.
Plodding along the narrow trail, now on one side in the wet grass, now on the other where the bushes shook drops all over them, they finally came to the maple grove.
"Thank goodness, we are thus far!" sighed the Guide.
"And the worst bit to cross or I'll miss my guess!" retorted Zan.
"Oh, no, we'll soon be through and over the wall of the buckwheat field. There, we can skirt the edge of the wall until we come to your lawn," added Jane.
"If you're not mired before you get to the field," said Zan, warningly.