It's still there," said George Ray.

Anderson Crow had scornfully washed his hands of the affair.
"Confound the luck! I haven't time to drive that far.

I have to be there at half-past twelve.

I'm late now! Is there no way to get across this miserable creek ?" He was in the buggy now, whip in hand, and his eyes wore an anxious expression.

Some of the men vowed later that he positively looked frightened.
"There's a foot-log high and dry, and you can walk across, but you can't get the horse and buggy over," said one of the men.
"Well, that's just what I'll have to do.