"I told you how it would be.

What a thick 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." "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.