"Let's begin again. We've no time to
waste."
The freshmen now began to search in the loft of the barn. They seized
the pitchforks that were in the mow, and, thrusting the tines into the
hay, they continued their search, working with desperate determination
and throwing the hay about them until the entire mow presented the
appearance of having been almost completely overturned.
But not a trace of the missing canes could they discover. At last,
satisfied that their efforts were vain, they ceased and for a moment
stared blankly at each other.
"No use," said Will despondently. "They've made game of us this time,
Foster, just as sure as you live."
"We won't give up yet, Will. Of course if the canes are here they were
not put where we'd be likely to stumble over them. We've just got to
think it out--"
Foster stopped abruptly as a voice was heard calling up from below. "I
must bid you an affectionate and tearful farewell, freshmen. Keep on
with your good work and remember that perseverance conquers everything.
Even the best of friends must part--"
Foster and Will waited to hear no more, but both plunged down the
ladder, but when they had gained the floor below it was to behold Mott
speeding up the lane as if he was "sprinting" for life itself.
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