The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1895-04-17

Weymouth ard the senior partner was
left alone to wonder more than ever.
Evidently whatever pay went into
Weymouth's pocket would be to him
only the price Of much happiness and
peace of mind.
The squire was lover of adventure,
as has been already said. and he went
hurrying down the street like boy to
overtake the man for whom he had q
great liking.
Tell me more, Weymouth" he
urged. you're tagged to death with
this affair, whatever is at the bottom of
it. Come and Wen have something to-
gether and see what can be done! | al
ways expected the like of this of
Rogers
Il had to make promise, sir" said
Weymouth, but I'll tell you all can
and be grateful for the chance. Some
times man who is alone must trust
his friend, and | make bold to call you
mine. Twill end in my borrowing
your sorrel mare and begging you to
mount the roam if | could have my
WISH
Wen start at dawn" said the
squire eagerly when he had heard the
story. NO, no constables till you've
got her safe away-then I'll manage
the game. | know the place, and that
upperlnn. tits a low lodging with but an
evil name, but twill do for a make
shift" and so they parted and Wey-
mouth felt every hour to be day and
knew that they might be setting out on
a long ride and was glad to remember
that nobody would wait at home for
the squire, who was also a single man.
They came in good time next day to the
old house above the waterside. to find
it deserted. The door stood open to
the winter wind and its tenant had
fled. At the other inn where Wey-
mouth had parted from his love. they
got news that those whom they sought
We're sailing for America and must be
hiding in Bristol If indeed they were
not already at sea.
The landlord and his hostlers said
boldly, and with an air of great inno-
cence and unconcern, that the country
was well rid of such a pack-they were
not old countrs> folk but late comers,
and their room in England was better
ing could be heard.
The disappointed riders called for
supper and made the most of the poor
comforts of the roadside tavern, but it
being then after nightfall Weymouth
Slipped out alone and crossing the road
followed the footpath down toward
the Severn. He was at heart like a
poor dog that had lost its master and
by the heuge where they had rested and
stood talking he shed many tears 1t
was again dark and misty night. and
darkest and saddest of all We're the
forebodings OF his cwn heart.
They made haste to Bristol and
searched :here, but too late. for when,
getting word Of their ship, they hurried
to the harbor side, it was only to see
the far white ileck of sail.
The rest of the story might be a long
tale by Itself
But Weymouth's way was a. long one.
He lost no time in starting on his quest
and pilgrimage, and his business of
horse dealing made an excellent excuse
for riding hither and yon through the
newly settled part of the country, find
ing what faint traces he could of the
emigrants from the day of their land
ing, but after many months had passed
he kept what patience and hope he
could in the midst of encouragement,
and believed at last that fate would
lead him where plots and plans had
failed.
''Under floods that are deepest,
over rocks that are steepest