Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1857-12-17
BautifuI Gals,
lfrom the Fond Du Lac Jourhal.I
MEAD0WDALE:
a STORY OF THE REVOLUTION.
CHAPTER XIV.
BY VAN B. SMEAD.

THE ALARM--1HE PURSUIT AND ITS RESULT.
Tom Miller sat alone in the underground
room of the old Meadow HUusc. The last
echo of Robinson's departing footsteps was
dying away, and he now felt that the whole
responsibility of the matter rested upon him.
Rude and unettered as he was, Henry could
scarcely haze chosen a more willy enemy to
lay plans for his destruction than this same
Tom Miller.
"l must out and chase that chapr' at
length murmured the tory, while he gazed
tixed!y upon the smouldering Goals that
emoked upon the hearth. "He's no common
kind of a feler to nab, and shouldn't won
der if We saw trouble Azure the thing-is done
Up."
Again the tory relaxed into deep rev.
erie The fiickering blaze threw a ghastly
light over the apartment, and the filthy
moke from refuse potatoes cast it's odurs up
10 the nasals of ibe unconscious Tom, as
though determined to remind him that his
supper lay burning and neglected. The
ralorous Gfimms lay snoring at the opposite
SIDE of the fire place, giving energy 10 the
midnight reve!s Of his brain with an occa.
sional grunt of hal-muttered curse, or per.
haps an involuntary kick at some imagi.
nary enemy at his feet.
..Grinms." critd Miller in an authorita
live tone.
sits humbug!" mnttered the still IN
conscious sleeper.
"What's that! Dye call me a humbug!'
returned the indignant Tom, accompanying
his query with an application of his boot to
the ribs of Mr. Grimms.
Ha-how-wha,'s the matter," shoutet
the injured sleeper, rolling up 10 a sitting
posture. and gazing wildly around him
whats happened!'
"Nothing, only wanted you to wake up.
"Hpmph! well. I've doae it,"
"I'm going away;
= "Why don't ye 60 thenr'
"Cause, l want to tell you how 10 tax
care of things when Pm gone"
aWellt"
"Don't let more'n one or two of the boy
go out az time, unless it's after dark, fo
they might get catched. If Joe Robinso
comes here again, tell him I'm on the tract
III
l get back. guess you'll tend to the re.
o. the matters
"Where yegoing"
81 haven't time to tel you now."
So with this very uncourteous reply, th
tory buttoned his blouse closer around h
throat, and after fastening his belt firmly
its place, and remarking that his pisto
were firmly secured, removed the fastenin!
of the trap door. and wss soon walkir
briskly through the night air, along the pa
of the Kings highway. In a few momen
he had cleared the forest, and commence
bis journey through the dusty street, guild.
Z family by the pale rays of the moon, viii
they glimmered along the wildwood brak
on either side, and through the inter,winiI
branches overhead.
1t was morning in New York, when
man, attired as a woodsman Of the countr
with his otter skin cap drawn cautious
over his brow, approached The marble ste
of an imposing edifice. He seized the p'
ished bell knob in his rude hand, gave vi
orous pull ahc leaning against pillar, wa
ed the answer Of his summons. The DIV,
ling was the residence of Captain Berksfo
end the applicant, Tom Miller, the TO y.
In few minutes, our old friend Brut
: Cesar opened the door, and after few G
planatory words, the visitor was invited