Iowa voter. [volume] (Knoxville, Iowa) 1867-1874, 1870-10-06

to run little faster, and he shall be home
nearly as soon.
On he rushes the path takes 8 bend,
and he ia just out Of sight when
his pursuer comes where the paths
divide. The boy has turned to the right.
the man takes the left, and the faster they
both run the farther they are asunder.
The white owl still leads him on; the
path gets darker and narrower; at last ne
finds that he has missed altogether, and
HIS feet ara6on the safe ground. He
founders about among the trees and
stumps, vexed with himself, and painting
after his race. At last he hits upon an
other track, and pushes on as fast as he
can. The ground begins sensibly to
descend; he has lost his way-but he
keeps bearing to the left; and though it Is
now dark, he thinks ne must reach the
main path sooner or later.
He does not know this part OF the wood,
Blu. runs on. Oh. little midshipman why
did you chase that owl! If you had kept
the path with the dark man behind you,
there was q chance that you might outrun
him; or if be had overtaken you, some
passing way farer might have heard your
cries, and came to save you. Now you
are running straight on to your death, for
the forest water is deep and black at the
bottom of this hill. o, that the moon
might come out and show it to you!
The moon is under a thick canopy OF
heavy black clouds, and there is not q star
to glitter on the water and make 1t visi-
BILE. The fern IL soft under his feet a. he
runs and slips down the sloping hill At
last he strikes against stone, stumbles
and falls. Two minutes more and he will
fall into the black water.
"Heydeyr cries the boy, "what's this!
Oh, how it tears my hands! Oh, this
thornbusn! Oh, my arms! l can't get
free!' He struggles and pants. "All this
comes of leaving the path" he says; II
shouldn't have cared for rolling down If
it hadn't been for this bush. The fern was
soft enough. I'll never stray away in a
wood at night again. There, free at last
And my jacket is nearly torn of my
With good dea, of patience and
great many scratches, he gets free OF the
thorn which had arrested his progress
when his feet were within yard OF the
water, manages to scramble to the bank,
and makes the best of his way through
the wood.
And now, as the clouds move slowly
onward, the moon shows her face on the
black surface of the water, and the little
white owl comes and boots and flutters
over it like wandering snowdrift. But
the boy il in the wood again, and knows
nothing Of the danger from which he has
escaped.
AL this time the dark passenger follows
the main track, and believes that the boy
is before him. At last he hears crash.
,vr <,f he Ix, ha
tie midsbipman's voice, not fifty yards be-
feEEe alta hiE Yes, It is too true the boy is
in the cross track. He will pass the cot.
his pursuer will come upon him.
The boy bounds into the path; but as
he sees the cottage he is thirsty, and 30
hot, that he thinks he must ask the inhab-
itants if they can sell him glass of ale.
He enters without ceremony. "Ale!"
says the woodman, who was sitting at his
supper, "No, we have no ale, but perhaps
my wife can give thee q drink Of milk.
Come in 2" So he comes in and shuts the
door, and while he sits waiting for the
milk, footsteps pass. They are the foot
steps of his pursuer, who goes on with
the stake in his hand, angry and impa.
tient that he has not yet come up with
him.
The woman goes to the dairy for the
milk, and the boy thinks she is gone q
long time.
Fast and fast the man runs after him.
it is very dark; but there is yellow
streak in the sky, where the moon Is
blowing up furrowed mass Of grey
clouds, and one or two stars are blinking
through the branches of the trees.
Fast the boy follows, and fast the man
runs On, with his weapon in his hand.
Suddenly he hears the joyous whoop-
not before, but behind him. He stops
and listens noiselessly. Yes, it is 30.
He pushes himself into the thicket, and
raises his stake, when the boy shall pass.
On he comes, running lightly, with his
hands in his pockets. A sound strikes at
the same instant on the ears of both; and
the boy turns back from the very jaws of
death to listen. 1t is the sound of wheels,
and it draws rapidly nearer. A man
comes up driving gig. "Hilloa he
says, in loud, cheerful voice. "What,
benighted, youngster ?"
40, is it you, Mr.. D-i" says the boy;
emo, am not benighted; or, ut any rate,
I know my way out of the woods"
The man drew farther back among the
shrubs why, bless the boy" he hears
the farmer say, TO think of our meeting
in this way The parson told me he was
in hopes of seeing thee some day this
week. I'll give thee lift. This is lone
place to be In this time o. night"
Lionel" says the boy, laughing; II
don't mind that; and IL you know the
way it's as safe as the quarter deck"
So he gets into the farmers gig, and is
once more out of the reach of the pnr-
suer. But the man knows that the farm
er's house lie quarter Of mile nearer
than the parsonage, and in that quarter
Of mile there Is still . chance OF com
hitting robbery. He determined still to
make the attempt and cuts across the
wood with such rapid strides that he
reaches the farmers gate just as the gig
drives up to 1t.
"Well, thank you, farmer" says the
midshipman as he prepares TO get down.
~ wish you good night gentlemen"
says the man when he passes.
"Good night, friend" the farmer re-
plies. 81 say, my boy, it's dark night
enough; but have a mind 10 drive you
on to the parsonage, and hear the rest Of