"Fifty miles!"
Rex repeated these words to himself as he stood on the platform of the station and looked after the swiftly vanishing cars.
How soon that train would cover them! It seemed such a simple thing to stay on board and be carried there, so cruel to be left behind simply for the lack of a little more money.
It was still quite early in the morning. People were coming down to take the train to the city. They had all been in their beds and had a good night's sleep doubtless. They were much better fitted for a long tramp than was he, who had not been to bed at all.
But he must set off at once. He asked the baggage man to tell him the road to Philadelphia.
"Sure, there it is, in front of you," replied the other, pointing to the gleaming steel rails.
"No, no; I mean the carriage road," returned Rex.
The man looked surprised, but gave him directions how to find it, and presently Rex was tramping down its dusty length.
"But I can never get there by to-night, nor by to-morrow night either," he kept saying to himself. "And I shall have to eat, and my money will not hold out till then."
Again he thought of telegraphing-- this time to Sydney. But where should he stay while he was waiting for the answer? Then he remembered how ill Syd still looked, and he recalled the doctor's inquiry1 that afternoon in the office as to whether he had had a shock.
No; he must leave telegraphing as the very last resort of all.
He trudged2 on, and presently saw a tramp coming towards him.
"Good morning," said the fellow, halting where he came up. "What time is it, boss?"
Rex had just looked at his watch, so without taking it out he told the time.
The man took a step closer to him, but just then a cloud of dust appeared in the road, and a buggy came into view. The tramp moved on without a word.
This incident did not tend to make Rex any more comfortable in mind. And now his body was beginning to rebel.
His stomach felt light, his heart heavy, and his limbs appeared to be weighted with lead. Coming to a spot where trees grew by the roadside he halted and stretched himself on the grass to rest.
He was no longer sleepy, but so tired. He felt that he was going to be ill.
The thought terrified him. Sick out here on the highway, only a few cents in his pockets, and not a friend anywhere about!
It was growing hot and he was getting hungry. His breakfast had been a very light one. The last regular meal he had eaten was on the Chicago Limited. How long ago that seemed now!
He took out his money and counted it over. There was but sixteen cents left. He felt that he could eat that much worth for his very next meal.
There seemed to be no way out of it but to telegraph home, and he had better do it, he decided3, before he was too ill to attend to it.
But there was no place now from which to send a message. He must keep on till he came to the next town.
He rose to his feet and had taken but a few steps when some one came up from behind and touched him on the shoulder.
He turned quickly, in fear of another tramp. It was a tramp truly, but a mere4 boy, not much older than himself. He was very pale and sickly looking, his clothes were torn in two or three places and his shoes were worn clear down to the uppers.
He did not speak. He stood there looking at Rex, amazement5 depicted6 in his gaze.
"I-- I made a mistake," he stammered7 out at last "I thought you were one of us. I saw you lying down there under the tree. Your shoes were all dusty. I knew you'd been tramping."
But Rex did not feel astonished. He felt so ill and faint that his head swam, and he began to totter8.
"I'll have to lie down again, I guess," he said weakly.
He had just time to move aside out of the dust when he fell like a log.
"What's the matter? Are you sick?"
The shabby looking youth had dropped to one knee beside Rex and was looking down at him with pitying eyes.
"Yes," was all Rex had strength to murmur9.
Then he closed his eyes and did not care what became of him. The strange lad let his other knee sink to the earth and remained in this attitude for several minutes, gazing earnestly at Rex.
"Poor chap," he muttered. "I can't make out what he's doing tramping the country this way. He don't look poor. What'll I do with him?"
The first thing to be done, evidently, was to get him out of the sun, which beat down on the spot where he had fallen with fierce intensity10.
The stranger bent11 over, and exerting all his strength lifted Rex in his arms and bore him back along the road to the grassy12 strip under the trees where he had recently been lying.
Rex opened his eyes for an instant when he felt himself raised from the ground. Then, when he saw the pity in the plain face looking down into his, he closed them again with a little sigh.
And now once more the strange youth sat contemplating13 the boy, who seemed to be a tramper like himself, but who, in every other respect, was so vastly different.
He noted14 the fine, delicately chiseled15 features, the smallness of his feet, the whiteness and smoothness of his hands. He had seen boys like this before, but he had never before touched one, never had one of them dependent on him, as it were, as this fellow appeared to be now.
Miles Harding did not know just what to do with the responsibility. And yet he was happy at having it; he felt glad that he had been able to do that little thing of carrying the boy from the sun into the shade.
It was not often that he was able to do anything for anybody. He was always in need of having something done for himself.
He tried to think of something else he might do. He noticed that Rex's head did not seem to rest very comfortably.
He took off his coat and started to make a roll of it for a pillow. But he stopped when he had it half finished.
"Maybe he wouldn't like that," he muttered, looking down at the garment as he unrolled it again.
It had been made for a man. There were rents in two places and plentiful16 sprinklings of grease spots.
The day was growing steadily17 warmer. Even under the tree one felt the heat.
"He wouldn't catch cold without his own," Miles murmured, and he bent over Rex and lifted him gently while he tried to take off his coat.
Rex opened his eyes and looked at him again as if in protest.
"I was going to make a pillow for you out of your coat," Miles explained. "You don't feel able to walk till we get to a house, do you?"
Rex slowly shook his head. He was in that condition which sometimes comes to those in seasickness18, when he didn't care whether he lived or died.
"Have you got pain?" went on Miles.
"Only when I walk," answered Rex; then, as if talking, too, hurt him, he closed his eyes and sank back upon the pillow the other made for him out of his coat.
Meantime clouds had been gathering19 in the west. Miles had been too much occupied with his unexpected charge to notice them. But now he looked up and saw the threatening aspect of the heavens with troubled countenance20.
He rose to his feet and strode out into the middle of the road, looking first in one direction, then the other.
His eye brightened as he saw a buggy coming from the westward21.
He watched impatiently, till it came up, and then saw that it contained two men. He held up his hand as a signal for them to stop. But the driver, who had been talking earnestly with his companion, cut the horse with his whip, shook his head and drove on.
Miles remained there, standing22 in the road, a hopeless droop23 coming over his whole figure.
"They think I want to beg of them, I suppose," he told himself. "What shall I do?"
Already the sun had gone under the cloud masses and the air was much cooler. The wind rose and began to rustle24 the leaves.
Quite a distance off down the road, in the direction whence the buggy had come, the red tops of two chimneys could be seen peeping above the trees.
"He can't stay here in the rain," Miles muttered. "I must try to get him to that house."
He turned to Rex again. He took the coat from under his head and made him put it on.
"It's going to storm," he said, "I'm going to carry you to that house."
"You can't," was all Rex had strength to say.
"I'm going to try," returned Miles, and he gathered Rex up in his arms just as the wind came sweeping25 down upon them in a gust26 that was ominous27 of that which was to follow.
收听单词发音 |
1
inquiry
|
|
| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
trudged
|
|
| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
amazement
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
depicted
|
|
| 描绘，描画( depict的过去式和过去分词 )； 描述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
stammered
|
|
| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
totter
|
|
| v.蹒跚， 摇摇欲坠；n.蹒跚的步子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
murmur
|
|
| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
intensity
|
|
| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
grassy
|
|
| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
contemplating
|
|
| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
noted
|
|
| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
chiseled
|
|
| adj.凿刻的，轮廓分明的v.凿，雕，镌( chisel的过去式 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
plentiful
|
|
| adj.富裕的，丰富的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
steadily
|
|
| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
seasickness
|
|
| n.晕船 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
gathering
|
|
| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
countenance
|
|
| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
westward
|
|
| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
droop
|
|
| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
rustle
|
|
| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
sweeping
|
|
| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
gust
|
|
| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
ominous
|
|
| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |