The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1878-07-24

viz AlOAObAlNs n UOY WuB
for no offense whatever has been pur-
sued by his parent, armed with pitch-
fork, and who has just found his kittens
head two rods away from her other be-
longings, the kitten also having been
guiltless, such a boy will not mention
the author of his being rs respectfully
as 1, who tell this tale, could wish.
"Well, I say ] think this is rather
hard lines on feller," Thoff went on.
II haint had any supper, an break
fast IL be nowhere, AM wish / was
out O. this, ! do. Oh, if 1 only had
some money
1t had grown quite dark an April
night, the air mild, and a soft patter of
rain on the bridge-roof. Thoff sat
staring down at lamp which burned
dimly just below bim,-a depressed
looking lamp, which sputtered Grossly,
as though saying, "I'm supported by
the town, and 1 know it." Thoff under
stood what it was to have "aid from
the town."
The evening train from Boston came
shrieking up the valley, passed the end
of the bridge, and rushed on into the
darkness and stiffness. Thoff sat quiet
long time. He was getting drowsy
when he heard footsteps approaching
from two directions. There was quick
greeting on the bridge just below him,
and then he caught the Words
Cup in his pasture on Spruce Hill.
Lost the wallet with five hundred dol
lars in it,"
Give hundred dollarsl I Thought he
was smarter than to be carryin' round so
much money. Spruce Hill, too. Why,
it's all alders and second growth up
there"
eyes, know; an tbs bad job. You
see he was coming down to the bank,
and stopped to look up southdown that
had strayed away. When he got to the
village he'd lost the wallet, and now he
wants you n me to start off with him to-
morrow morning m see if we can find it. 4"
"Find It'll" cried the man.
''Sh-hl not so loud, whispered the
first speaker, looking cautiously " round.
Don't you see we've got to keep still
about itp If some folks should get hold
of the story they mt come in ahead, flnd
the wallet, and then it never'd be heard
of again"
"What'll he pay for finding it?"
"Four dollars a day." was the slow
answer.
"That amt enough. If he wants the
s1ectmen o Diarmid, he's got to pay &C.
cordin'. I'll go for six"
"AI right; be won't stand for two dol
lars, l guess. Eight o'clock tomorrow
morning. I'll stop for you. Keep dark. 4"
The men parted, and Thoff sat in the
dimness of his den thinking. He was
not sleepy now. Five hundred dollars
lost among the rocks of Spruce Hill! He
knew every foot of glound up there. 1t
was not in vain that he had lived away
from home and eaten strawberries for
week at time. If any person in Diar-
mid could find the wallet, Thoff knew
himself to be that person.
The old town clock was striking five
the next morning as the boy climbed the
wall and started up Spruce Hill.
'Now I'm three hours ahead of the
squire n his men," said Thoff. rBut
they'll know where to look, and I've got
to guess at it"
AT eight o'clock two. wagons went up
"the gulf-road," and a boy stole down
over the hill to the school house.
Better luck next time" said Thoff.
Zone Hundred Dollars Reward ~
This was a week later, and lad stood
reading an advertisement which was
pasted up at the entrance of the bridge.
The above reward was offered for the
finding and return to it's owner of pock-
ct book, lost on Spruce Hill the 30th
of April, by Luke Granger. Thoff stood
for some time staring at the large capi-
tails; then he turned away, remarking to
himself:
$50 they haint found that money, it
seems. Well, nor haint /.
Three days afterwards, when the
search had been given up by everybody
else, Thof started out again. Arbutus
was in bloom now, and wake robin, and
wood violets, and the boy trampled down
great levels of them in his search.
His palm leaf hat, with a strip of blue
cambria tied around it for a band,
became familiar sight to every squir-
rel on the hill that day, for he stay
ed till sunset. Then, as it drew toward
dusk, and the valley below lay in shadow,
and only the hilltops saw the sun, he
started for home.
1t was quite dark in the thick woods
at the base of the mountain, and there,
running along a narrow path, his foot
hit something which bounded off, and
which was not a stone. He stopped,
fumbled with cropping fingers in the
ground pine and last years leaves, and
at length found-the pocket book.
Ten minutes more and ThOff Shelton
might have been seen, had there been
more light and any one to see him,
crouching in the darkness of his den,
hugging the wallet to his breast, and, to
his own amazement and modification,
actually crying as he clutched his trea.
sure.
Five hundred dollarsp 70 he said,
softly, to himself. 1t was all there. He
had counted the bills by the one bar of
lamplight which struggled up from be-
low. Now then for life, liberty and