"Are we ahead?" shouted Pryor as they came up. "Yes, and ahead of the record," was the answer. "All right, Pryor. All right, Rogers, Eaton and Porter."
Then they were past, trotting along a frosty, rutted country road.
"Anyone want the lead?" grunted Pryor.
"How about you, Roy?" asked Jack.
But Roy shook his head dumbly and Chub moved up to the head of the group. The wind had increased and was blowing icily out of the north-east, but it was almost behind them and so helped them along. Pryor nodded towards a dead beech tree beside the road. Jack nodded back.
"Two miles more," he said.
"Road or hill?" asked Chub, looking around a moment.
"Don't care," answered Pryor.
"Hill," said Jack.
At a turn of the road Chub left it to the right and the others followed.