"How far is it to Aunt Judy's?" he asked, when at last he was ready to start.
"Well, I reckons it's 'bout six or seben miles, Mah'sr Harry," said Charity.
"Six or seven miles!" exclaimed Harry. "When shall I get there!"
"Now don't hurry and git yese'f all in a heat," said Charity. "Jist keep along dis path fru de woods till ye strike de road, and that'll take ye straight to de bridge. Wish I had a mule to len' ye."
"Good-by, Charity," cried Harry. "I'm ever so much obliged." And hurriedly searching his vest pockets, he found a ten-cent note and a few pennies, which he gave to the children, who grinned in silent delight, and then he started off on a run.
But he did not run all the way.
Before long he began to tire a little, and then he settled down into a fast walk. He felt that he must hurry along as fast as he was able. The fortunes of the Crooked Creek Telegraph Company depended upon him. If the company failed in this, its first opportunity, there was no hope for it.
So on he walked, and before very long he struck the main road. Here he thought he should be able to get along faster, but there was no particular reason for it. In fact, the open road was rather rougher than that through the woods. But it was cooler here than under the heavy, overhanging trees.
And now Harry first noticed that the sun was not shining. At least, it was behind the western hills. It must be growing very late, he thought.
On he went, for a mile or two, and then it began to grow dusky. Night was surely coming on.