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Updated: May 28, 2025
There was somebody running down the bank not near the store kept by Timothy Lakeby, but directly opposite the rock on which the old boat had stranded. "Oh! oh! Help! help!" shrieked the girl of the Red Mill. "Hold on! I'm coming!" The voice came to her more strongly than before. She could not see who the person was, but she knew he was alone. She could not imagine how he was to aid them.
It was a warm evening, and neither Ruth nor her uncle were likely to take cold from their ducking. But her clothing clung to her in an uncomfortable manner, and the girl was anxious to get back to the mill. Timothy Lakeby routed out a clerk and sent him with them in the lighter boat that was moored at the store landing. Ruth begged to pull an oar again, and her uncle did not forbid her.
"Seems ter me I could ha' gone an' been back by now. An' hi guy! there's four sacks o' flour to take acrost the river to Tim Lakeby an' I kyan't do it by meself Ben knows that. Takes two' on us ter handle thet punt 'ith the river runnin' like she is right now." The girl who had last spoken folded the work in her lap and got up agilely.
"It's a dumbed shame, Jabez! an' I needed that flour like tunket," said Timothy Lakeby, the storekeeper. "Huh!" grunted the miller. "'Tain't nothin' out o' your pocket, Tim." "But my customers air wantin' it." "You lemme hev your boat, an' a boy to bring it back, an' we'll go right hum an' load ye up some more flour," groaned the miller. "That dratted Ben will be back by thet time, I fancy.
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