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Trumps by George William Curtis
page 23 of 615 (03%)
CHAPTER IV.

NIGHT.


It was already dusk, but the summer evening is the best time for play.
The sport in the play-ground at Mr. Gray's was at its height, and the
hot, eager, panting boys were shouting and scampering in every direction,
when a man ran in from the road and cried out, breathless,

"Where's Mr. Gray?"

"In his study," answered twenty voices at once. The man darted toward the
house and went in; the next moment he reappeared with Mr. Gray, both of
them running.

"Get out the boat!" cried Mr. Gray, "and call the big boys. There's a man
drowning in the pond!"

The game was over at once, and each young heart thrilled with vague
horror. Abel Newt, Muddock, Blanding, Tom Gait, Jim Greenidge, and the
rest of the older boys, came rushing out of the school-room, and ran
toward the barn, in which the boat was kept upon a truck. In a moment the
door was open, the truck run out, and all the boys took hold of the rope.
Mr. Gray and the stranger led the way. The throng swept out of the gate,
and as they hastened silently along, the axles of the truck kindled with
the friction and began to smoke.

"Carefully! steadily!" cried the boys all together.

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