“Hurry up!” said William Wallace. “Hurry up!”
“I tell you, Mr. Murphy,” said Billy in his most friendly tone, “I’ll go out under the canopy. Then, if Mr. Prescott does come out, he’ll see that there’s somebody at the gate.”
“Very well,” said Thomas Murphy, lowering his lame leg carefully down the step. “Very well.”
Billy, glad of a chance to work off his feelings, ran out to the gate as fast as he could.
Slowly, very slowly, Thomas Murphy came across the yard.
Billy, that he might not seem to be watching, stood with his back to the mill.
About the time that he thought Thomas Murphy would reach the gate, he heard a sudden exclamation. Turning around, he saw Thomas Murphy, timekeeper of Prescott mill, lying flat on his face.
Quarter-past four stood the hands of the clock. Never in his life had Billy seen them move so fast at that time of the day.
Hurrying back he asked, “Can I help you, Mr. Murphy?”
“Thank you, William,” answered Thomas Murphy, holding out his hand for help. “A friend in need is a friend indeed.”