Free Lost Lad by Narvel Annable Page B

Scott.
                "What about the best route?  Can you read a one inch OS map?"
     
    Five minutes later they were in the master's room poring over an old cloth map.  During previous excursions into Derbyshire, Scott had always taken main routes by simply reading road directions.  He was now intrigued by the alternative suggestions being offered involving canal paths, tiny back roads and footpaths through ravines and dales which eliminated many of the steeper hills.  These sensible, quiet, more interesting courses provided an exciting challenge to Scott in his new role as the navigator and avoided the motorcars, lorries and other dangers of the A6.
     
    'Digs' had not been considered.  Mr Matthewman suggested a Youth Hostel but they were not members.  He was then struck by an idea.  Would they like to stay at a friendly farmhouse with dogs, cats, a sheep and a goat in a remote hamlet near Buxton?  This welcome proposal was accepted by a spontaneous hearty cheer - tempered by an ominous silence when a ten shilling fee was mentioned -
                "Mr and Mrs Peirson are old friends of ours and Wellhead Farm is an excellent and interesting 16th century house.  For a five course dinner, comfortable bed and substantial breakfast at half their usual terms, that is very good value indeed - not much more that you'd pay at a Youth Hostel.  You couldn't expect them to do it for less.  Don't forget that you'll need a little extra cash for drinks and small treats."
     
    This precipitated a short financial conference.  The money was not a problem for Scott or Rex who had paper rounds.  Simeon had generous parents who both worked.  The Forrester twins, much less well off, were more concerned about the affordability of this short holiday on top of the annual August week at Skegness which was already spoken for. 
                "A can go.  I'll gerrit from me granddad!"
     
    This was a voice from outside the room, the voice of little 'Titch' Day standing in the doorway who had just invited himself to make the five - now six.  Keith Matthewman was touched by the kind lack of dissent and immediate acceptance from the others -
                "You'd better come in here, Tom, if you're going to be one of the team."           
        
    After a few very gentle but firm words about the need for good conduct in representing William Howitt Secondary Modern School and reminding Scott in particular of his special responsibilities as the leader, the schoolmaster disappeared to make a brief long distance telephone-call from Miss McLenin's office to book in six 'reliable well behaved' boys for the following night at Wellhead Farm.
     
    Mr Matthewman returned and wrote the name and address of their destination on the edge of the time-worn map which he handed to Scott.
                "No need to give it back, it's done good service here.  You do understand the route I proposed?"
                "A think so, sir."
                "Good.  Mrs Peirson is expecting you at about six - at the latest.  You'll need to wash for dinner.  Don't bother taking soap or towels, they provide that sort of thing.  You all have saddle bags?"
     
    Six heads nodded.  Apart from Scott's new bag, all were serviceable, if battered. 
                "Good.  Take a toothbrush and a change of clothes in case you get wet.  The weather's settled, you should be OK.  Puncture outfit and basic tools?"
     
    Again common assent which left little else but to dismiss the pupils with 'bon voyage' and good luck.  He expected an excited dash out of the room but, once more, Keith Matthewman was pleasurably impressed by the way these kids, albeit in their rather rough way, remembered to thank him as best they could for his interest and help.         
     
    Early the next day was bright indeed, sparkling and blue, if a touch cool, when Rex, Dobba and Titch were exhilarated at the