Good night, Mr.
Whitaker! Thank you for what you've told us," called Will Phelps, as he
quickly turned and began to run.
Obediently the boys all followed Will as he ran swiftly across the
field, and in a brief time they discovered the pathway to which the old
minister had referred. There was no conversation now, for the fear in
every heart was that they would arrive at the ford too late to avail.
Besides, there was the likelihood that the canes would be disposed of
before the wagon had gone very far from Mr. Whitaker's house. A
multitude of fears possessed them, but they ran swiftly along the path
where Will Phelps, eager and strong was leading the way. Not once did
they stop for rest. The night air was chilling, and the clouds that
swept across the face of the sky did not hide the light of the moon.
On and on they sped, steadily maintaining the dogged pace which the
leader was setting for them, until at last, well-nigh winded and
thoroughly tired by their exertions, they arrived at the place where the
pathway joined the road and they knew that Winthrop was not more than
three-quarters of a mile away. There they halted, but they had not
recovered from the effects of their long run when they perceived a farm
wagon, apparently filled with bags, coming down the hill that was near
them.
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