Isn't that a sign-post ahead ?" It was a sign-post, looming black and forbidding, like a wayside gibbet, where a second road turned to the left.

"Wharton, 2 M--Levidge's Mills, 4 M--Custer, 6 M," they read with difficulty.
"We can do two miles in half an hour easily," said Amy.

"Gee, I can almost smell that coffee, Clint!" They went on in the growing light, passing another farm-house presently and another unfriendly dog.

The greyness in the east became tinged with rose.

Birds sang and fluttered.