“Gee,” said Nelson, “I feel as though I could walk a hundred miles!”
“So do I,” answered Bob. “My legs feel positively rusty. Let’s have a good long tramp. I’m not the least bit sleepy.”
“Nor am I. Which way shall we go?”
“It doesn’t matter. Let’s turn down here. It’s no more muddy than any other street, I guess.” So they left the main street behind, turning to the left onto a dimly lighted road which led southward. Overhead the moon gleamed fitfully from between masses of somber clouds. The rain had ceased and the air felt warmer than it had all day. They struck out lustily, splashing through unseen puddles and leaving the town behind them in a jiffy.
“This is something like,” grunted Bob, as he recovered himself from a stumble over a tree root.
“Yes,” Nelson laughed. “If you don’t break your neck, there’s nothing like walking, after all. Remember the dandy times we had last summer.”
“Well, we’ve had pretty good times this summer, too, so far,” replied Bob. “Only, I wish Tommy would show up. I’m beginning to get worried about him. If he doesn’t come back to-morrow we ought to write to his folks, or telegraph, maybe, and see if he’s with them.”
“Oh, tommyrot!” said Nelson. “He wouldn’t go home. Besides, he didn’t have money enough. He’s around somewhere having a good time. I dare say he thinks he’ll get back at us for running away from him.”
“Maybe, but how does he know we won’t go off without him?”
“Well, he knows that he wouldn’t if he was in our place, and doesn’t expect us to.”