He pointed up the road towards the blacksmith's and said:

"This way--it's the shortest."

"No," I said. "Round by the quay is the shortest way."

We argued the point a little, and did not agree. I was convinced that I
was right, and could not understand why he insisted. At last he
suggested that we should each go his own way; the one who got there
first could wait at the hut.

We set off, and he was soon lost to sight in the wood.

I walked at my usual pace, and reckoned to be there a good five minutes
ahead. But when I got to the hut he was there already. He called out as
I came up:

"What did I say? I always go this way--it _is_ the shortest."

I looked at him in surprise; he was not heated, and did not appear to
have been running. He did not stay now, but said good-night in a
friendly way, and went back the way he had come.

I stood there and thought to myself: This is strange! I ought to be some
judge of distance, and I've walked both those ways several times. My
good man, you've been fudging again. Was the whole thing a pretence?

I saw his back as he disappeared into the wood again.

Next moment I started off in track of him, going quickly and cautiously;