Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1906-12-25

give me hope and courage. | got the
parting over as quickly as possible, and
then with a small portmanteau, which
contained all the personal effects that
needed, l struck out across the downs in
the direction of Sandhaven. The brisk
sea breeze revived my spirits, and by the
time / reached the cliff path a dozen
hopeful projects were revolving in my
mind
| hattered myself with the reflection
that / was in far better position to
make my way in the world successfully
than many others who had won fortunes,
for besides energy, strength and health,
and strong incentive to make the most
of them, | had over fifty pounds in my
pocket and a little property, which
resolved to turn into money at once
This property consisted of a cottage and
a few acres of ground under the cliff
midway between Sandhaven and Tower
bridge. 1t was called the Halfway House
and had quite a romantic history. Orig
lnally it belonged to my great-grandfather-
Peter Beamish, and a desperate rascal
he was, according to all accounts. Even
now, at the age of "a. the Oldest and most
disreputable inhabitant of Bonpcrt, signs
of indomitable will, cunning and reck-
less daring were evident in the great
hooked-nose that almost met his chin, the
dark Sits of eyes cleaning like jet under
the shaggy white penthouse of his over
hanging brows, and in the quick, abrupt
decisive movements of his shrunken old
limbs. He was tyrant in his domestic
relations and would have no women or
children in his house. When his son
Ben married, the wife was sent to live
with her mother-in-law in Sandhaven
and Ben was permitted to go and see her
on Sundays, unless business prevented. In
comparison with his father Ben was a
cherub, a meek, inoffensive man, a rascal,
doubtless but one who would have pre-
terred to fall in with the times and exer
else his raScaiity in a respectable way.
Blu there was no resisting the rascality of
his father, who used him as tool and
Kept him under from first TO last-treat-
ing him as a mere boy when old Ben
was white headed. These two, father and
but in reality it was nothing but store
for contraband goods and rendezvous
for the gang of smugglers of which my
OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES was captain.
All along that part of the coast the
soft cliff is undermined by the encroach-
ing sea. There was a cavern on thu
shore into which the cargoes were run.
and it was said there existed a secret
way of communication between the cave
on the shore and the house on the cliff.
In those days the preventive service was
inefficient, and the revenue men kept
away from the Halfway House as much
as possible, the company there rring their
pistols as freely as we might use lucifer
matches. 1t was, in fact, dangerous for
anyone to go near the place.
The gang was composed of rascals of
various nationalities, but among them
was one called French Peter, 70 distin-
guish him from my great-grandfather,
who was almost as masterful as the ac-
knowledged captain. The two Peters
quarreled, and there was a split in the
camp, when French Peter, 10 be avenged
on his enemy, fired a keg or two Of gun
powder in the cavern, and brought down
an enormous slice of the cliff, completely
choking the cavern and making it unap-
proachable from the sea. That ruined
English Peter and his faithful adherents
and, his occupation being gone, he sold
Me cottage to my father, who had then
lately married Susan Beamish, my grand
fathers only child.
My father was captain of a coaster.
He was wrecked soon after my birth, and
my mother, taking her loss to heart. died
a year after, leaving the cottage and ali
that she possessed to me by will. Just
then my great-grandfather came to grief
and got seven years Imprisonment. ana
my grandfather, seeing that smuggling
was nc longer a profitable vocation, re-
formed.
He had always hankered after a sneak
ing, safe, respectable way of living, and
being released from thraldom to his faith
er. he took possession of the Halfway
House, signed the pledge-several times
and undertook TO bring Inc up in the
way l should go.
When my great-grandfather came out
of prison he was Disguised with the
change in men and manners that had
taken place during his seclusion The
DAY of smuggling was past. He refused
TO dwell in the Halfway House, declar-
ing that the smell of whitewash made
him sick. How he lived was a mystery.
He spent great part of his DAYS and
nights in the alehouses for comfort in the
villages round and about: sometimes he
was TO be seen sitting on a spar at the
end of the pier at Bonport scowling out
at the sea. but regularly every month he
came over to the Halfway House and
stayed there for two days TO "let the boy
go out for bit of a vacation" as he
put il. And old Ben awaited himself of
this opportunity, going of to some village
where he was not we'll known. But why
they should never leave the house to-
gether was a fact that often perplexed
me.
And now. reaching the crest of Dead
mans Point l saw the square. one
stored cottage on the cliff. with the. sea
bursting over the detached mass at its
base, which marked the close of evil
DAYS.
To my surprise found the doors lock
ed and the blinds drawn when ] reached
the cottage. There was no response to
my knock, and | was beginning TO think
that my grandfather for once had left the
cottage unguarded when the rattle of q
piece Of mortar on the tiles caused me to
lift my eyes, and 1 caught sight of my
grandfather peering through the half
opened shutter of the dorner window in
the roof.
TN coming down. sonny" said he.
blandly, finding himself perceived. and
soon opened the door to me.
He was s fair-Skinned. apple-faced old
man, with pleasant blue eyes. On the
table was dish of smoking hot potatoes
I did not then wait TO consider why he
sho0ld make a secret of eating his din
ner. but struck at once into q subject
l had come there 10 discuss. In a few
hasty words | told him that l had left
The Chase for ever and was Ing abroad.
lie looked at me in mt Z establishment
for q moment. and then. shaping his leg
gleefully. exclaimed:
What, you've done the trick and cnt
our cable, soanyg Well. didn't think
il was in you. thst l didn't Whist a
mortal pity father amt here This would
have been s treat for him. And him that
thinks so mean of you. too. that he al
ways spits when he hears your name.
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