Some of the spectators, who happened to know that Ralph was slated to go in the box in place of Frank Allen, would even be cruel enough to declare that the novice must have been attacked with a case of stage fright, and retreated from the grounds after seeing the immense throng which he would have to face.
So Ralph tried to forget all his personal affairs for the time being, and think only of his duty toward his school.
Now that she had found her father again, Mary seemed to be satisfied. Ralph used another spare handkerchief to make a loop in which the injured hand could be suspended; and the little girl thanked him with her bright eyes.
By the time this had been done Smalling came up with the team. Ralph lifted the girl to the seat beside her father.
“Come up here with us; plenty of room, Ralph,” said the man; and seeing that he spoke truly, Ralph hastened to comply, although he had been about to swing himself up behind, with his feet dangling over the tailboard.
Consulting his watch, a little nickel affair costing but one dollar, he discovered that he should have been on the field before this. The rescue of Mary, and carrying her all this way, had consumed considerable time.
Smalling urged the horses to do their best. He was naturally anxious about his child, and, moreover, knew that minutes were exceedingly precious to the boy who had stepped aside to do this kindly act.
“I reckon you won’t be sorry for what you did, boy,” he said, turning his head as they pushed forward over the country road.
His words gave Ralph the keenest sort of satisfaction. He was thrilled with the thought of how his good star must have been in the ascendent when it urged him to investigate the meaning of those apparent sobs in the bushes.
“And to think how near I came to passing by, thinking it might only be some fellow trying to trick me,” was what Ralph was saying to himself all the while.