could not be safely run in the dark. So we carried our boats up to the tow-path, intending to paddle into Danville that night on the canal.
But when we had eaten our supper we resolved to stay where we were. It was a lonely and lovely place. A high wooden bridge on stone piers crossed the canal and railroad, and led up into a road that was cut into the steep hillside.
We sat on the high bridge and enjoyed the moonrise over the gloomy hill; but, though we did our best to forget it, the coming speech-making disturbed us like the distant roar of rapid water that we knew had to be considered and crossed.
"I wish Tom Elder would come along," suggested Smith. "We could go into Danville on his canal boat."
But Tom was miles astern; and we went and raided on a wood-pile near the bridge, though no house could be seen, and flung a dozen big sticks down to the tow-path beside the boats. Just then we heard a buggy, or light wagon, passing on the road; and Smith ran up on the bridge and hailed it, meaning to ask some questions.
"Ho! I say! I say, sir!" he shouted, as he sprang out in the moonlight. The driver of the wagon started up his horse, evidently alarmed. We heard the swish! swish! of the whip, quicker
