Winn knew this
as well as any one, and the knowledge did not tend to reassure him.
If he only had some one with him to help work the heavy sweeps by which
the raft's course might be directed, or even to advise him what to do.
It was dreadful to be alone. What a foolish thing he had done, after
all, in attempting to manage this affair by himself. If he had only
gone back for Billy Brackett. But his boyish pride in his own ability
had again overcome his judgment, and now he must abide by the
consequences.
"I only hope, if I do get run down and killed, they will find out who I
am," thought the poor boy. "It would be horrid to disappear and have
folks say I was a coward, who had run away for fear father would be
angry with me for losing his raft. As if _my_ father would ever do
anything to make me afraid of him! And mother! How badly she would
feel if I should disappear without ever giving her the comfort of
knowing I was dead. There is Elta, too, and the very last time I saw
her I was ugly to her. Oh dear! I wish--well, I wish, for one thing,
that I could get inside that 'shanty,' and out of this miserable
drizzle. I wonder if I can't pick the lock?"
Full of this new idea, Winn obtained a bit of stiff wire from the
handle of a lantern that stood outside the "shanty." This he bent as
well as he could into the rude form of a key, and thus equipped, he
worked patiently at the lock for another hour.
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