Five minutes more, however, saw the last of the boys out of water and rapidly getting themselves in shape to perform their own required duties.  There could be no idlers in the party when Dick & Co. were away from home on a hike.

Yet, once breakfast had been disposed of, and the dishes washed, there seemed something in the August air that made them all disinclined to break camp and move on.

“I wish we could stay here all day, and move on to-morrow,” murmured Hazy, thus voicing the thought of some of the others.

“And then blame the tramps for loafing!” exclaimed Dick.

“Do we look as though we had loafed this summer?” challenged Dalzell.

“No; but one or two of you would have done a good deal of it if you hadn’t been afraid of the contempt of the others,” smiled Prescott.

“Honestly, now,” demanded Hazy, “wouldn’t you enjoy just staying here and lounging today, Dick Prescott?”

“I would,” Dick assented.

“There, now!”

“But that isn’t what we left home to do, so we won’t do it.”

“Eh?” queried Hazy.

“Attention, Lazybones Squad!” called Prescott, springing up.  “Hazy, harness the horse and hitch him to the wagon.  Tom, Dave and Greg, take down the tent.  I’ll pack the bedding.  Dan, load the kitchen stuff on the wagon.”

This occupied a few minutes.

“Now, all hands turn to and load on the floor planks, bedding and the tent,” called Dick.

This, too, was quickly accomplished, though all six were now perspiring.

“Greg, I believe it’s your turn to drive first to-day,” Prescott announced.  “Up with you!  Forward—–­march!”

Dick led the way out of camp, at a brisk four-mile-an-hour stride.  The long hike was started, at last.  After that there was no grumbling, even during the hourly halt of ten minutes.

The noon halt found them with eleven and a half miles covered out of the twenty.  Five o’clock brought Dick & Co. to the outskirts of Fenton, a town of some twenty-five hundred inhabitants.

“Whoa!” called Tom, reining up half a mile from the town.  “There are woods here, Dick.  If we go any closer to Fenton, we’ll either have to keep on traveling to the other side of the town, or ask the authorities for permission to camp on the common.  Don’t you believe we had better stop here?”

“These are the woods that Dave and I had just picked out,” Prescott replied.  “We were going to keep on traveling until we found out who owns the woods.  This isn’t quite in the wilderness, Tom, and we must begin again to seek permission to make our camp from owners of property.”

“If these are the woods,” grunted Tom, “there can be no use in going farther.  You and Dave trot on ahead, and bring us back word.”

“All right,” sang out the young leader, “but don’t drive onto the ground, or unpack, until we are back with word about the owner’s permission.”