Her good scout
enterprise was suddenly changed into an act of sneaking disobedience.
The physical exhaustion which follows nervous strain was upon her now
and her little feet lagged in their soaking shoes and once or twice she
stumbled with fatigue.
For what burden is heavier than a heavy heart? The soothing voices
of insect life which soften the darkness and cheer the wayfarer in the
countryside seemed only to mock her with their myriad care-free songs.
And to make matters worse there suddenly rang in her ears from far over
to the west the loud clatter of those loose planks on the old bridge
along the highway, as a car sped over it:
"You have to go back,
You have to go back."
Then the noise ceased suddenly, and there was no sound but the calling
of a screech-owl somewhere in the intervening woods.
Pepsy sat down on a rock by the roadside partly to rest and partly
because she did not want to go home. She knew, or she ought to have
known, that Aunt Jamsiah was pretty sure to be lenient about a harmless
transgression with so generous a motive. But the warning voice from that
unseen bridge disconcerted her. It was not long after she was seated
that her head hung down and soon the gentle comforter of sleep came to
her and she lay there, pillowing her head on her little thin arm.
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