Ralph had caught sight of a dinner pail on the ground near by. It was empty, too, which fact gave him the impression that the little girl might have been on the way home after carrying a noonday meal to her father. He had an indistinct recollection of hearing the name before. Perhaps it was in connection with a new family that had come to live on the outskirts of the town; but just then in his confusion of ideas he could not for the life of him tell whether it had been on the other side along the river road, or to the west. “Where does your father work?” he asked, on a hazard. “For Mr. Gregg,” came the immediate answer. “At the mill, the flour mill?” asked the boy, quickly. A nod of the little auburn-crowned head answered him. Then Ralph knew what his duty was. He remembered that the mill was only a quarter of a mile away from the spot where they were at that moment. Perhaps the child’s home might be even closer, but he could not take the chances of hunting for it. “I’m going to carry you to your father, Mary. You’re not afraid of me, are you?” he asked, bending down again; for some one ought to get her to a doctor without much delay, so that it might be discovered whether any bones had been broken by the cruel fall of that heavy stone. “Me? Oh! no,” she said, instantly, which pleased Ralph more than he cared to say, for it told him his manner had inspired confidence in the little maid. So he gathered the wee mite of humanity up in his arms, and having decided upon which direction he should take, strode off. “But--my dinner pail! Daddy won’t like me to lose it!” wailed the child, after they had gone fifty paces. Nothing would do but that Ralph must return in order that she might clutch it in her one well hand. Then again he made a start. It was provoking that an accident like this should delay him just when minutes were of so much value. But Ralph could not have had the heart to leave that innocent child crying there alone in those dense woods even though a dozen ball games depended on his showing up at a certain time. The little one proved more of a load than he had anticipated. Several times he would have been glad of a chance to rest and put her down; but the passage of time kept staring him in the face. Ralph hoped that this encounter would not prove to be his undoing. He had grave fears that the strain of carrying the child so great a distance might shake his nerves in a way he would feel to his disadvantage during the progress of the game. Little did the boy realize how a benevolent fortune was playing directly into his hands, and that the very thing he feared might be a calamity was fated to be but another stepping stone on the road to good luck. The little girl had stopped crying. He could see her bright eyes looking up into his face every time he glanced down. As he staggered along Ralph kept talking in his cheery way, and no doubt that had considerable to do with her appearance of contentment.