The Fremont weekly journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County, Ohio) 1867-1877, 1870-02-25
of marder llf murder it - in 81

Of murder (if murder it was) in 81
lenee.
All night long! He did not look
out again; but he never rested for q
moment. Now he fsncied he hoard
stealthy steps above or below: now
be was sure it was the eraelzlin0 of a
fire kindled in one OF the cellars 9Dfior
meath; relieved Of one fear. another
and greater followed continpaIIv
The deep Of the night had passed
The moon had set and the fire coma
out. Tom crept up and down, to and
fro, his limbs stiff with cold and
damp, through the pitchy darkness.
A sickly light began to struggle
through the windows; far of be
heard the cocks crow. The SOUL i.
reached him, poor Tom as in a dream
He dragged himself to the door Of
his mothers room and heard her
voice within, and his fathers.
Morning had come, and they were
safe! He turned to go down and
resume his weary march; but, on the
way, the poor little head reeled, the
brave heart stopped beating, and
Tom lay stretched on the cold stone
floor, over which he had kept his
long vigils so well.
He was reused by a warm cordial
at his lips, and the doctors breezy
voice calling HIM,
Good news, Tom boy! Good news!
Lookp
Somebody had him in their arms.
1t was Captain Duncan; his mother.
half sobbing and half laughing, was
kneeling before him, chatting his lev
feet, and holding them to her breast
But when Tom tried feebly, to rise,
there was his father Sitting up in
the bed, his eyes bright, and his
cheeks full Of ruddy color, as they
had not been for months.
You're safe, fatherr Tom clung to
his hand.
"Safe, my boy cried the doctor;
The crisis is past, thanks to God
But Toms brain went back to the
old thought: Whom did they
murder? Father, father, to call them
Gods creaturesp
No one spoke. But the captain
led Tom to the window, and threw
it open. The red flush of the early
day lay soft and bright on the green
slopes, and the dewy woods, and
glancing river; and there, as far as
the eye could see, was the cut grain,
in long, even, golden heaps. shining
in the sum-
Tom tried to speak, but a great
lump in his throat chOked him.
Underneath the window were stacked
the arms taken from Mr.. Kelsoe,
Toms pretty fowling-pieee laid on
top.
They left this bit of paper said
Mr. Kelsoe, Tom read the words
scrawled on it:
God sore ger homer. We're off to
Ameirkg
There will be a free pardon issu.
ed,' said the Captain. And, upon
my word, I'm almost glad the scoun.
drels have escaped
But Tom was looking intently at
a wretched figure below, with an
empty sleeve pinned to his breast.
It's Kit, father he said. pleadingly,
He's my foster brother
Yes, go, Tom, and bring him in.
And never forget tina; it was the hat.
ed crOppies who have saved us from
ruin: and that the man who seemed
vilest toyou is only your brother,
with heart and blood like your own
They've given you new life, Kel-
soc, that's a factn said the Captain.
Hs stopped, turning his head away,
that they might not see his wet eyes.
It's q curiously pleasant day." he
said, after awhile. L suppose it is
something in the air But 1 feel as
if l could find brother in in any
man, even a scoundrelly croppy, and
see something good even in the Shan
Van Voght"-RjUerside Magazine.