“I think we’d better not stay, sir.”
“Wal, suit yerself, of course. There’s kinder a feel o’ more weather in the air, but likely’s not it’ll hold off a spell. And the road’s in good shape. Then, too, there’s the short cut. If ye knew the lay of the land it’d save you a lot o’ distance. The road’s the long way ’round, ye know—makes jest about a right-angle.”
The Shark and Step, who had come up, overheard this.
“You mean, then,” queried the former, “that we could lessen effort by taking the hypothenuse?”
The foreman smiled. “Or words to that effect, sonny.”
“I comprehend the proposition perfectly,” the Shark solemnly assured him. “It may be regarded as elementary.”
“I’m for the march,” Step declared. “Say, it’ll beat old Xenophon’s Anabasis to a frazzle!”
“I’m for anything that’ll do that!” cried Poke, who had joined the group. “Enteuthen exelaunei on snow-shoes, by Jiminy!”
“Umph! Never did get the hang o’ French myself,” quoth the boss. “But you fellers’d better talk over things in plain English. Then let me know what ye decide on.”
Herman Boyd, called to the conference, added his vote to those of his friends. Tramping out on snow-shoes would be the greatest kind of a lark. The Trojan was of the same opinion.