Sophy knew this road well, and she knew that by following it towards the
right she should eventually reach home, although it was a long distance.
She wondered where Peter was, if he had come back to look for her, if he
was in the forest now, searching for her. And the girls, what were they
doing? Were they sitting down to supper now without her? She wondered if
her silver mug had been filled with nice rich milk as usual, and if there
was toast to-night for supper. Perhaps Honor was cooking something on the
chafing-dish, as she did sometimes by way of a great treat. Sophy did
wish that she was there. She was so hungry and it was so far! It seemed
as if she must keep walking all night in order to reach there.
At last, quite exhausted, she sat down upon a rock by the roadside. She
must rest for a few moments at the foot of the long hill which loomed up
before her. There was a little house at the top, she knew, and a short
distance farther on their own place began, although their house was a
half-mile beyond. She had just made up her mind to continue her weary
march, when she saw two young men or boys emerge from the woods from the
other side of the road from those in which she had been. She was sitting
in the shadow of some large bushes, and she thought if she kept very
still that they might not notice her. She scarcely dared to breathe, but
she heard very distinctly the beating of her heart, and the sound
frightened her. As the boys approached, she heard one of them say:
“An’ yer won’t tell me nothin’? Well, then, yer don’t git any of the
stuff.”
“I don’t want it,” replied the other, as they passed her.
To Sophy’s astonishment, she recognized the voice as that of Dave Carney.
Was it—could it possibly be he? She peered after him, and then springing
to her feet she ran as fast as she could up the road in pursuit.
“Dave! Dave!” she cried. “Wait for me! I’m lost, and I’m so glad to see
you. Oh, _so_ glad!”
And then to Carney’s astonishment a small hand was thrust into his hand,
and a small and anxious face was turned up towards his face.
“Why, where’d you come from?” he asked, stopping abruptly in his walk,
while his companion uttered an exclamation of anger.
“I went to the woods with Peter, and I got lost. There was a terrible
scream, and it frightened me dreadfully, and I’ve been all this time
trying to find my way home. Oh, Dave, I’m _so_ glad to see you!” said the
child, forgetting her fatigue, and dancing with glee, while she still
tightly grasped his hand. “You’ve no idea how dreadful it was. Who is
that, Dave? Is it your brother? He looks just like you.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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