are
twice as long as yours and of cast-iron, wholly indifferent to one or
two miles, more or less. However, they struggle after him, panting and
plunging along, Tom and East pretty close, and Tadpole, whose big head
begins to pull him down, some thirty yards behind.

THE FIRST CHECK.

Now comes a brook, with stiff clay banks, from which they can hardly
drag their legs, and they hear faint cries for help from the wretched
Tadpole, who has fairly stuck fast. But they have too little run left
in themselves to pull up for their own brothers. Three fields more,
and another check, and then "forward," called away to the extreme
right.

The two boys' souls die within them; they can never do it. Young
Brooke thinks so, too, and says, kindly: "You'll cross a lane after
next field, keep down it, and you'll hit the Dunchurch road below the
Cock," and then, steams away for the run in, in which he's sure to be
first, as if he were just starting. They struggle on across the next
field, the "forwards" getting fainter and fainter, and then ceasing.
The whole hunt is out of earshot, and all hope of coming in is over.

NO GO.

"Hang it all!" broke out East, as soon as he had got wind enough,
pulling off his hat and mopping at his face, all spattered with dirt,
and lined with sweat, from which went up a thick steam into the still,
cold air. "I told you how it would be. What a thick[20] I was to come!
Here we are dead beat, and yet I know we're close to the run in, if we
knew the country."

[20] #Thick#: fool.

"Well," said Tom, mopping away, and gulping down his disappointment,
"it can't be helped. We did our best, anyhow. Hadn't we better find
this lane, and go down it as young Brooke told us?"

"I suppose so--nothing else for it," grunted East. "If ever I go out
last day again," growl--growl--growl.

So they tried back slowly and sorrowfully, and found the lane, and
went limping down it, plashing in the cold, puddly ruts, and beginning
to feel how the run had taken it out of them. The evening closed in
fast, and clouded over, dark, cold, and dreary.

CONSEQUENCES.

"I say, it must be locking-up, I should think," remarked East,
breaking the silence; "it's so dark."

"What if we're late?" said Tom.

"No tea, and sent up to the Doctor," answered East.

The thought didn't add to their cheerfulness. Presently a faint halloo
was heard from an adjoining field. They answered it, and stopped,
hoping for some competen