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.
At last, when Ralph feared he could hold out no longer, he heard the familiar whirr of the big water wheel, and caught a glimpse of the mill through openings in the trees.
“We’re almost there, Mary, and you will soon be with your father,” he said, smiling down at her.
“That will be nice. I’m glad you came,” the child answered; and Ralph believed there was enough of genuine gratitude in those simple words to repay him doubly for all his trouble.
All he begrudged was the time it had taken. Only for that he would not have cared had the distance been thrice as long, for it was certainly a pleasure for this lad to do a service to a helpless little creature in trouble.
He reached the road over which the supplies of the flour mill were carried, as well as the milled product hauled away. It was easier going now.
“There’s my daddy!” exclaimed Mary, struggling up in his arms.