"What do you think, Wilson?"
"Let's try to reach the railroad."
"All right."
Shadrack grunted his assent, and they trudged along the road, looking for
an opening to the left. Presently a flash of lightning showed them a field.
They climbed the fence and started across. Their feet sank in mud that
seemed bottomless, and water oozed in over their shoe-tops.
"Can you make it?" asked Wilson.
"Yeh--go on," answered Tom, panting.
"I'm coming," muttered Shadrack.
It took them a half-hour to cross the field; then they sat on the fence
exhausted. No lightning came to show them the way, so they climbed the
fence, crossed another road, and entered a second field. The mud here was
worse.
"Bogged!" exclaimed Shadrack.
They retreated to the road.
"Let's follow this road," suggested Tom. "It seems to go in the general
direction of the railroad tracks."
"Probably goes to a farmhouse," replied Wilson.
"Suits me exactly," said Shadrack.
During the next twenty minutes they made their way slowly along the road,
slipping in the mud, sometimes falling. Twice Tom went down on his hands
and knees. Shadrack sprawled face downward, and got up muttering something
about "eating the filthy stuff.
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