' brain;
but my 'pinion is he never had any brains to get soft. Still he were a
good digger, but the man we got next was no good."

"What was the trouble with him? More longevity?"

"No; he buried everybody with their feet to the west."

"Isn't that the proper thing?"

"No, 'tisn't!"

"Why?"

"Any fool knows ye ought t' be buried with yer feet t' the east."

"Why's that?"

"So't ye can hear Gabriel's trumpet better when he blows, an' can rise
up facin' him an' be all ready t' go when he calls."

"I hadn't thought of that."

"Like 's not. Some folks don't. We've got another digger now, an' he
knows."

For a time conversation ceased, and the farmer drove briskly along the
country road. When an hour had elapsed, Mott said, "I don't see that
we're getting anywhere near Winthrop."

"Winthrop? Is that where ye want t' go? Students there, maybe?"

"Yes."

"Well, we've been goin' straight away from Winthrop all the time. Ye
didn't say nothin' 'bout it, an' I didn't feel called upon t' explain,
for I supposed college students knew everything."

"How far is it to Winthrop?" inquired Will blankly.

"'Beout ten mile," responded the farmer, his eyes twinkling as he reined
in his team.

CHAPTER X

A VISITOR

The boys both hastily leaped to the ground and the old farmer quickly
spoke to his team and started on, leaving his recent passengers in such
a frame of mind that they even forgot to thank him for his courtesy and
kindness. As the wagon drove off, Will fancied that he heard a sly
chuckle from the driver but he had disappeared around the bend in the
road before the young freshman recovered from his astonishment
sufficiently to speak of it.

"That old chap wasn't such a fool after all," said Mott glumly.

"That's what he wasn't," responded Will beginning to laugh.

"What are you laughing at?" demanded Mott sharply.

"At ourselves."

"I don't see the joke."

"Might as well laugh as cry."

"You'll sing another song before you're back in Winthrop to-night. Ten
miles isn't any laughing matter after we've tramped as far as we have
to-day."

"But it'll help us for our track meet," suggested Will, laughing again.

"Bother the track meet!"

"It'll help our longevity then. I've always heard that walking was the
best exercise."

"The old fellow was foxy. He never said a word but just let us talk on.
I'd give a dollar to hear his account of it when he gets home."

"Cheap enough. But say, Mot