on some other nights,"
whispered Bert Dodge in his friend's ear.

"To get square with those muckers, who drove us out of Gridley
High School and out of town is my only excuse for living at present,"
sniffed Bayliss.

CHAPTER III

DICK & CO. DRIVEN UP A TREE

"Dick!"

"Yes?" replied Prescott, turning and looking back at Tom, whose
turn it now was to furnish motive power to the loaded cart.

"How far did you say it was from Gridley to the second lake?"
asked Reade.

"Sixteen miles."

"I've pushed the cart more than that far already," grunted Tom.
"I'm willing to wager that the lake is more than a hundred and
twenty miles from Gridley."

"Suppose it is," scoffed Dave, falling back beside the cart "Tom,
just think of the fine training your back muscles are getting
out of this work!"

"I'll tell you all about that, Darry," grumbled Reade, "when you've
had your turn for ten minutes. How much longer does my turn run,
Dick?"

"Five minutes," replied Prescott, after glancing at his watch.
"Are you going to be able to hold out that long?"

"Yes; if I live that long," sighed Tom.

Dick and Hazelton had each taken their fifteen minute turns at
pushing the cart. The boys had already put some distance between
themselves and Gridley. Dick & Co. were tramping down a well-shaded
road bounded by prosperous-looking farms. Two miles further on
the boys would branch off through a long stretch of woods where
the road was rougher. Here two youngsters would be needed for
the work, one pushing, while the other hauled on a rope made fast
to the front of the cart.

Five of the boys were well laden with miscellaneous packages of
food. Tom, on account of pushing the cart, had been permitted
to place his load on the already well-packed cart.

"Time's up," called Dick. "Dave to the bat."

Smiling, Darry packed his own parcels in the cart.

"Whew! But it's good to get away from that thing," grunted Reade,
mopping his forehead, as he stalked on ahead.

"Here, you, Tom!" called Danny Grin. "Take your personal pack
off the cart and tote it like the rest of us."

Reade turned a comically scowling face to Dalzell.

"Danny," he demanded rebukingly, "why couldn't you hold your tongue?"

"Because, when I'm working hard, I don't like to see you shirk,"
replied Dalzell with a complacent grin.

"But consider Darry," urged Reade. "Note how strong, lithe and
supple he is. Boy, he is much better fitted for pushing