The record-union., 1894-04-07

followed him. The lovers lay motionless
in the canoe. They could hear the snort
ing of the swimming horses, the calls of
their riders and the encouraging shouts
from along the fast receding shore. They
knew, too, that the heroic efforts of the
old tinker were fast eXhausting his splen-
did strength. They realized, with hor-
ror, that the craft was now violently
tacking, as if to avoid the plungings of
the nearest horse. One of its hoots
struck the bottom of the canoe nearly up
setting it.
"Stop, Bob Stanley! Stop, or Hill kill
ye"
The words had scarcely left Jem Bos-
Wells lips when the old gypsy stood upon
his feet in the canoe. The TWO beneath
him heard the whistling whirl of pad
die above his head, the crashing sound
which followed and the splashing about
of an unguided and riderless horse In the
dark waters behind as the poor animal
gave piteous and almost human trump
etings of disaster to it's following mates.
"Thank God! They's picked Jem hup
an gone back" were the only words
Bob Stanley uttered, as he redoubled his
efforts and finally sent the canoe with
quivering bound upon the southern bank
of the lake, the shOre-edge OF safety and
success.
Here horses had been tethered. They
before Bob's sharp ears had detected the
sound of Gathering hoofs from the noun
tain road around the northern clrcllng OF
the lake.
But theirs was the advantage OF dis
tance and of silence. They gained the
Raymond road in few moments. Un-
derneath the pines, this is for miles rib
bony reach OF sand. In half an hours
time the three horse and their riders
swept up to the old tavern stable whose
huge door was swiftly opened. disclos-
ing the grinning face of the stable-boy
Leroy.
"Quick! Out with that lantern! Close
and bar the door," whispered Northup as
each horse trotted to its stall and each
rider slipped from it's back into manger
and crouched breathless in the hay. In
moment more all was still and dark in
the little hamlet, save where a white and
night-capped head protruded from an
upper window of the Raymond Inn. 1t
was outside, attentive and voluble, when
half-dozen gypsy horsemen thundered
up TO the tavern doors and begged to
know if three riders had passed that
way.
"You gypsies is too Slow" said bland
female voice from the nightcap in the
window. Thought you was up an
comm sort of folk. Been told SO. Them
you're arter-the gal, the tinker and the
writer feller - you'll never git My !!
They're half way to Portland by this
time. Had plenty time to stop here and
git married, too-the gal and the writer
teller, mean"
Married. chorussed all the discom-
flied gypsies from below.
''Yes, married. Now, if you'll take
my advice-and me and my man has
been keepin' tavern nigh forty year
you'll go right hum and gita good nights
sleepi"
"Thank ee mani" and "Thank ee
kindlyn' came from the swarthy forms
beneath. Then they whispered together
for moment, and, after doleful good
nights to the nightcap and voice in the
window of the inn. they set out defect
edly, but at lively gallop, toward the dis
tant camp.
Perhaps half hour later white figure
crossed the road to the old inn stable. Its
knuckles raped sharply at the closed
and barred door.
''It's me, Leroy, Jest tell Mister
Northup and the gal and the old un they
better scratch right out of the hay and
come right long over to the tavern. Pm
losin' sleep. The parsons waitin' up in
the dancin' room layin' on the sofy.
Well have 'em jined in a minute er two,
au' you can drive 'em over to Sebago sta
ton afore day break in the mornin'. My!
Who'd ever thought Mary Emily Smith
and Margaret Ann Nason'd ever be
dragged inter seech doin's as this?''
When gypsy is fairly beaten by gypsy
all feud and bitterness are at an end.
And for this reason, now when the sum-
mer days come and the longing steals
into Lucetta Northup's heart and into