Our plan was for the men to leave Oak Park at sundown and walk in the dark thirty miles, and the ladies leave home, in automobile, at 3:30 in the morning, then all take breakfast together at Libertyville, from where the ladies would accompany the men on the last twenty-four miles.
The evening before the start we had a laughable wrangle as to who, of the men, could or could not pull through to Libertyville, as the heavy fall rains had so impaired the roads that there would be much high stepping and low dipping as we stumbled along in the dark. Also, we knew that the journey from Libertyville to Antioch, being over clay hills, would be either slip-slop or hard and sharp for the feet of the ladies, but everybody seemed anxious to make a record.
Jessie, Arthur's wife, and Mrs. Buhler felt dubious about the outcome of the ladies' walk, but my wife declared she would like to see the man who had walked thirty miles in the night that she could not accompany through the following day.
Of the very many aspirants all found plausible excuses except the two Richardsons and their wives, Eugene Buhler, and Paul Highland and their wives, Albert Hauter, Edd Hauter and Bruce Tate.
FANNIE PETERSON.
Accordingly, as the autumn sun was casting its last gleam through the old oaks we seven men grouped for a picture, by a neighbor lady, who declared it would be nice for the survivors, if any, to look at after they had become weaker and wiser.
After kissing all the kissable ladies and promising to take it easy, we, in spite of ourselves, lit out at a pace that would have done justice to trained pedestrians.