rt.

"Well, I reckons it's 'bout six or seben miles, Mah'sr Harry," said
Charity.

"Six or seven miles!" exclaimed Harry. "When shall I get there!"

"Now don't hurry and git yese'f all in a heat," said Charity. "Jist keep
along dis path fru de woods till ye strike de road, and that'll take ye
straight to de bridge. Wish I had a mule to len' ye."

"Good-by, Charity," cried Harry. "I'm ever so much obliged." And
hurriedly searching his vest pockets, he found a ten-cent note and a few
pennies, which he gave to the children, who grinned in silent delight,
and then he started off on a run.

But he did not run all the way.

Before long he began to tire a little, and then he settled down into a
fast walk. He felt that he must hurry along as fast as he was able. The
fortunes of the Crooked Creek Telegraph Company depended upon him. If
the company failed in this, its first opportunity, there was no hope for
it.

So on he walked, and before very long he struck the main road. Here he
thought he should be able to get along faster, but there was no
particular reason for it. In fact, the open road was rather rougher than
that through the woods. But it was cooler here than under the heavy,
overhanging trees.

And now Harry first noticed that the sun was not shining. At least, it
was behind the western hills. It must be growing very late, he thought.

On he went, for a mile or two, and then it began to grow dusky. Night
was surely coming on.

At a turn in the wood, he met a negro boy with a tin bucket on his head.
Harry knew him. It was Tom Haskins.

"Hello, Tom!" said Harry, stopping for a moment; "I want you."

"What you want, Mah'sr Harry?" asked Tom.

"I want you to come to Aunt Judy's cabin and carry some messages over to
Hetertown for me."

"When you want me?" said Tom; "to-morrer mornin'?"

"No; I want you to-night. This minute. I'll pay you."

"To-night?" cried the astonished Tom. "Go ober dar in de dark! Can't do
dat, Mah'sr Harry. Ise 'fraid to go fru de woods in de dark."

"Nonsense," cried Harry. "Nothing's going to hurt you. Come on over."

"Can't do it, Mah'sr Harry, no how," said Tom. "Ise got ter tote dis
hyar buttermilk home; dey's a-waitin' fur it now. But p'r'aps Jim'll go
fur you. He kin borrer a mule and go fur you, Mah'sr Harry, I 'spects."

"Well, tell Jim to get a mule and come to Aunt Judy's just as quick as
he can. I'll pay him right well."

"Dat's so, Mah'sr Harry; Jim'll go 'long fur