tried it know, or can fully appreciate, what is
meant by adding a mile an hour to one's pace. Most active men go at
four miles an hour when walking at a good smart pace. Men _never_ walk
at five miles an hour except when in the utmost haste, and then only for
a short distance. Anything beyond that requires a run in order to be
sustained.

It was curious to watch the progress of these two men. The aim of each
was to walk at his greatest possible speed, without allowing the
slightest evidence of unwonted exertion to appear on his countenance or
in his manner.

They walked on the sands of the shore--there being no roads there--and
at first the walking was good, as the tide was out and the sand hard.
But before they had got half way to the fishery the sea came in and
drove them to the soft sand, which, as nearly every one knows, is
terribly fatiguing and difficult to walk in.

Up to this point the two men had kept abreast, going at a tremendous
pace, yet conversing quietly and keeping down every appearance of
distress; affecting, in fact, to be going at their usual and natural
pace! Many a sidelong glance did Rollo cast, however, at his companion,
to see if he were likely to give in soon. But Jack was as cool as a
cucumber, and wore a remarkably amiable expression of countenance. He
even hummed snatches of one or two songs, as though he were only
sauntering on the beach. At last he took out his pipe, filled it, and
began to smoke, without slackening speed. This filled Rollo with
surprise, and for the first time he began to entertain doubts as to the
result of the struggle.

As for Jack, he never doubted it for a moment. When they were compelled
to take to the heavy sand and sank above the ankles at every step, he
changed his tactics. Putting out his pipe, he fell behind a few paces.

"Ha!" thought Rollo, "done up at last; now I'll give it you."

The thought that he was sure of victory infused such spirit into the man
that he braced himself to renewed exertion. This was just what Jack
wanted. He kept exactly a foot behind Rollo, yet when the other
ventured to slacken his pace, (which was now too great to be kept up),
he pushed forward just enough to keep him at it, without disheartening
him as to result. In the midst of this they both came to a full stop on
discovering a box made of birch bark, which seemed to have been dropped
by some passing Indians.

"Hallo! what have we here?" cried Jack, stooping