He could see, in the distance, the smoke arising from a hundred
chimneys where the city lay, and the road looked as though it would
take him more directly there. He did not stop long to consider. He
plunged ahead down a little hill, and then along on a foot-path by the
side of the wagon-track. The day had grown to be very warm, and Ralph
removed his jacket and carried it on his arm or across his shoulder.
He became thirsty after a while, but he dared not stop at the houses
along the way to ask for water; it would take too much time. He met
many wagons coming toward him, but there seemed to be few going in to
the city. He had hoped to get a ride. He had overtaken a farmer with
a wagon-load of produce going to the town and had passed him. Two or
three fast teams whirled by, leaving a cloud of dust to envelop him.
Then a man, riding in a buggy, drove slowly down the road. Ralph
shouted at him as he passed:--
"Please, sir, may I have a ride? I'm in a desp'ate hurry!"
But the man looked back at him contemptuously. "I don't run a stage
for the benefit of tramps," he said, and drove on.
Ralph was discouraged and did not dare to ask any one else for a ride,
though there seemed to be several opportunities to get one.
But he came to a place, at last, where a little creek crossed the
road, a cool spring run, and he knelt down by it and quenched his
thirst, and considered that if he had been in a wagon he would have
missed the drink. The road was somewhat disappointing to him, too.
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