now I understand; and Landy, that is a clever idea!" the girl exclaimed. "But Elmer intends setting out on his wheel later on in the day; will you please tell me what reason there is for that, Landy?"
"Oh, it was arranged by the committee, that's all. Several of the fellows will go from time to time. Sort of keep tabs on the contestants and see how they are getting on. I expected to be chosen to be one of these inspectors, but I had a little accident yesterday that knocked me out. But all the fellows said that the game old Philander Smith spirit cropped out, and that few boys could have held on up in that tree as long as I did."
But if sly Landy expected in this manner to lead the conversation into a personal line, so that he could glorify his own prowess, he made a mistake. Evidently the pretty little miss with the golden locks and the blue eyes had no desire to hear about his wonderful escape.
"How will the six contestants get anything to eat on the way?" she asked.
"Oh, that's left to them," answered the fat boy, frowning with disappointment over the failure of his attempt to rivet her attention on himself. "They can stop and have a meal at any old tavern; but I reckon most of the fellows are wise to the fact that they must lose valuable time that way. I know George has a snack stowed away in his haversack right now. He's on to all the dodges, you know."
"Why, of course he is, because he is your cousin, Landy. But suppose one of the poor fellows breaks down? It's a terrible long trip, and all sorts of things might happen, don't you think?" Elsie continued.
"Not much danger of that, I guess," Landy answered. "You see every one of them had to undergo a physical examination before Mr. Garrabrant would allow them to enter; and they're all as fit as fiddles. Of course we don't expect that after they've put, say twenty miles, behind them they'll be as chipper as they are now. Their feet will drag more or less; but that's where the grit must show."
"They expect to start all at the same time, then?" asked the girl.
"Sure, but after a mile or so they'll be likely to separate. One will believe the pace too warm for the start, and drop back. You know they say it's a bad thing to urge your horse early in a long race. All sorts of ideas will prevail, so that long before the first ten miles have been covered the six boys may be far apart, and each trudging along to suit his ideas."
"How much you know about all these things, Landy!" said Elsie, with a twinkle in her sunny eyes that he failed to catch; for he again stiffened up with that superior air that boys are apt to assume when explaining the science of baseball or some other manly sport to a girl who has never attended a game before.
"Oh, well, we just have to, you see, if we ever expect to make good scouts," he replied, thinking that after all Elsie was even a little prettier than her chum, when she chose to smile on a fellow that way. "And besides, we pick up a lot of information from our scout master, and Elmer, who knows all about woodcraft, because he lived out on the big plains. But it must be getting near time for the start, because they're lining up now. Let's push ahead so we can see what happens."
Despairing of getting away while the persistent little maid continued to seek information, Landy was now hedging, and content to carry her along with him as he pushed through the crowd of talking, laughing spectators.
The clock in the church tower pointed to two minutes of six. And at the first stroke of the hour they were expected to be off.
Six boys stood in line, eager and expectant. Their particular friends called out encouraging words, and there was a perfect babel of confusion about this time. But Mr. Garrabrant anticipating such a happening, had spoken the last words of caution. So that there was now nothing to be done but wait for the loud boom of the big clock in the tower.
"Good luck, Lil Artha!"
"Keep that good left foot of yours going right along, George!"
"Red, we're counting on you to win out, remember!"
"That's Ty Collins on the extreme left; just you watch his smoke!"
"Take it easy, Matty! You know the rules of the game, old fellow!"
"Jack, don't you ever come around again unless you bring that prize with you!"
This last created a roar of laughter, as one of the scouts imitated the voice of a girl whom everyone knew Jack Armitage was sweet on.
One minute of six!
Gradually this clamor died down as the critical minute drew closer and closer. Many eyes were turned upon the big face of the clock on the side of the square tower of the church.
"Ready, all!" they heard Mr. Garrabrant call out.
Then came a deathly silence. Everyone craned his or her neck, and the figures of the six contestants who wore the khaki garments of the Boy Scouts proved to be the hub of all glances.
Some of the boys looked grim and determined; others, like tall Lil Artha, wore confident smiles, as though they believed in their hearts that it would be an easy snap. But all were evidently primed to do their level best, no matter what the final result.
Ah! There was a whirring sound up in the tower. Well did the boys know that the big clock always emitted this seeming gasp just before the striking of the hour. Then came a reverberating boom!
It was time.
"Hurrah!" yelled the crowd, as hats and handkerchiefs filled the air; "they're off!"
"And may the best man win!" said the smiling scout master, looking after the fast walking line of contestants.
CHAPTER IV.
SIGNS OF TROUBLE
"Look at 'em all in a bunch!" cried one of the watchers; for the crowd had been particularly requested not to follow the six walkers or annoy them in the start.
"But with Lil Artha at the head!" called another exultantly.
"But they're all keeping up close with him, even if Red does have to cover five steps to three by Lil Artha. It ain't the length of a fellow's legs that counts for everything in a hike, let me tell you!"
"Shucks! Why, Lil Artha is just playing with 'em," laughed another.
"Sure he is; when he feels like it, he'll make a ring around the rest, and then not be pushed!"
"Oh, he will, eh? Shows how much you know about these things. Lil Artha may be due to a little surprise before many hours go past; and it'll be George Robbins who will do it," said Landy, proudly.
"For he has the true Philander Smith grit," sang another; at which there was a shout from the rapidly breaking-up crowd, for this little weakness on the part of the fat boy was pretty generally known.
Presently a turn in the road shut out the walkers. They were all going strong when last seen, and Lil Artha even turned to wave a jaunty farewell to those of his friends who had wished him success in the great hike.
Elmer and the balance of the scouts gathered together to talk over matters connected with the affair. A plan of campaign had been mapped out with almost as much care as if a battle were impending. Indeed, all sorts of road maps had been consulted in laying out the course over which the six contestants were expected to pass. And a copy of the same, as well as the rules governing their actions, had been sent over to the Fairfield troop at the earnest request of the scout master who had lately taken charge there.
The
