“There was nothing the matter, was there, Ben?” asked Katie; but so little did she think it possible, that she did not even wait for the answer which Ben was very ready to give.
Chapter Twenty Two.
Poor Davie.
It was not that Davie thought anything serious was the matter that, as Ben said, “he went tearing” down the hill toward the river, but that he feared there might be before all was done, unless there was some way of preventing it.
“Where are them boys?” he heard one mother say to another, as he passed with his empty pitcher in his hand, and the answer was—
“They’ve gone down to the river, I expect. But I don’t suppose there’s any danger—not to Gershom boys, who swim there every summer day of their lives.”
But there were many boys and girls also on the grounds who did not belong to Gershom, and to some of them a river big enough for a boat to sail on, would have a charm which must certainly draw them to its banks, and it would have been a good plan to appoint a committee to see to such, Davie thought.
“I’ll just have a look down there,” he said to himself, and as soon as he was over the fence and out of sight, he ran rapidly toward the river. There were all sorts of children there, some of whom had wandered down to the mill-pond. There were two boats on the river, but there were grown people as well as children in them, and there were grown people walking on the bank who might justly be considered responsible for the safety of those who could not take care of themselves, and Davie was about to turn up the hill again, when a little fellow hailed him.