The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1903-03-20
NO. 20.

of his handsome pals as innocent as
you please"
AS Rossiter and Becraft sailed
forth on their excursion to Blue
Creek on the following morning,
Sunday, they encountered Jack Par
melee and Mr.. Merton in earnest talk
at the gateway.
"Goin' for a tramp?" Parmelee
asked as the two passed.
"Yes," answered Rossiter, "over to
Blue Creek"
Its quite place." said Parmelee.
I'll tell you what you might do"
he continued, ''if you care to walk as
far"
''What's that?'
"Well, if you follow the creek down
for three-quarters of mile, mebbe,
you'll come to little branch that
leads up through a side gully. Strike
into that for score of rods, cross
the Blue Creek road, which makes
big dip just there, and after you've
gone, oh, say twice as far again, take
a bee-line through the woods and
you'll hit our loggin'-road that'l
fetch you out at the meadow below
the orchard"
"Much Obliged" said Rossiter.
"And say" added Parmelee, "you
might just have your eyes open and
watch out for any traces of that
hairy hobo"
''We'll do It'll" and the two swung
off in the direction Of the gulf.
1t was one of those vital Septem-
Der mornings. The artist Frost had
begun work upon his autumn picture,
giving little touches here and there
which later he would amplify until
the whole countryside from horizon
to horizon would show the result of
his glowing skill.
You're not sorry you came hop
pickin', are you?" demanded Becraft,
as the two stopped for a moment at
the spot where Rossiter had encoun-
tered "Whiskers.''
The valley of the Blue Creek was
at their feet, peaceful and beautiful
in the September sunlight.
"sorry!" exclaimed Rossiter; "very
far from it. And I've you to thank
for it all. I feel that I'm a different
man from the vagabond you met that
day at Illica."
There's no doubt o. that. No
body'd take you for the same chap.
But as for thanks, don't want to
hear anytbin' about that sort O.
thing. You don't suppose I've for
gotten what you did for me, do you?"
swell, we'll call it's quits, and say
no more about it. But why did you
let on to your mother in regard to
that business in the river? She made
it mighty uncomfortable for me the
other day."
Becraft grinned.
"Did she?" said he. "She always
thought you was just about right,
but, by jinks, now you're the whole
thing, an no mistake!"
"What does she think about a GER
tain son of hers? Eth, Joe?"
Becraft tried to look unconcerned,
but his effort proved fiat failure,
and so, in the best of humor, they de-
scended into the valley. Along the
bank of the singing, cyrstal stream
they wandered, now through open
pastures, now beneath the shade of
great forest trees, and now through
a dense underground of beech and
maple. On both sides rose lofty
wooded bank, sometimes 100 yards
or more from the bed of the stream,
sometimes close at hand, so that
they could see, in moist clefts far
above their heads, great sprays of
and beds of the rare
walking fern. They surprised
speclsled trout in dark pools, hol-
lowed by the action of the water upon
the blue slate which gave the stream
its name; and they encountered Gu
rious fungus-growth, strange even to
Rossiter, who had picked up consid-
cradle wood-lore in his wayfarings.
By and by they noted the branch
glen, of which Parmelee had spoken,
and turned into it. 1t was contract
ed and thickly wooded before they
upon the Blue Creek road,
a highway which ran for some dis
tance parallel to the stream and then
bent away towards the Merton farm,
but above the road it expanded, and
in places the forest was less dense.
The road crossed the ravine by an
and yet there was a
sharp dip, so deep was the depres-
sion.
"Golly!" said Becraft, gazing about,
''if this amt wild place!"
1T certainly is" responded Rossi-
ter. "We might be miles from
house, and yet I presume there are
farms quite near"
They did not pause to see, how
ever, but continued on their way up
the glen.
81 think we'd better climb the bank
and strike into the woods here" an
Rossiter, as they reached
a spot where the ravine widened and |
it's bottom was dotted with dense
clumps of scrub hemlock.
They were making for the thicket-
covered slope, when, on passing be- |
tween two close set hemlock clumps, |
they discovered the still smouldering (
ashes of a fire. Charred potato skins
and cobs from which the corn had |
been eaten were strewn upon the |
ground.
'We're too late for breakfast" said
Rossiter, looking about him as if in
search of further traces of those
who had kindled the fire. 'It might
be interesting to know who feasted |