Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1907-01-01

of satisfaction.
1--WE been heaving the lead all night.
sonny" said he, but I think I've got
my soundings now. You must go and find
father. Better 90 now"
Don't bother yourself about that"
said l, thinking he was troubled with the
prospect of my selling the cottage II
can wait few days for the money"
1T amt that" he replied impatiently.
You must go and find father, tell you.
You go to Bonport now at once, and
find Mrs. Edards, the gen'ral shop in
Mermaid street. You &c upstairs, and
if fathers at home tell him I'm took
queer, and he's wanted. If he amt at
home go and look for him on the pier,
and IL that's no good have look in at
the Dolphingand likewise the Hearty Tar,
and the Three Mugs, and the Hanchor;
In fact you'd better try all the publics
one arter the other as you come to 'em;
but find him you mrst. And III tell you
for why''-he dro. ped his voice, and
looked suspiciously the door, as IL he
feared the eavesdropper-"it a inter-
of life or death"
looked at him in doubt, but the
strenuous expression in his face indi-.
Gated clearly enough that he had said
no more than the bare truth.
What's the clock now?" he asked.
Eight"
And what o'clock did 1 start on this
gallus cruise"
ut was between twelve and one when
you came in here"
He reckoned up the intervening hours
on his fingers, and then said emphatical
ly:
You must be off this minute. There's
not an instant to lose. You must find
father and bring him here by twelve at
the outside"
And supposing he's not to be found?"
'Then the Lord ha' mercy !" he ex-
claimed, clapping his hand on his wet
forehead. why, look here, if you don't
find him by, say half-past eleven, you
must start back here. You can DO it in
a hour, stepping out smart. That brings
it to half-past twelve. You'll have some
thing awful to answer for if you're not
back by then" he added, impressively
saw there was no time to waste in
inquiries, great as the inducement was
to satisfy my curiosity, and buttoned up
my coat for sharp walk.
sonny" called the old man as was
about to leave the room, 'just one word
Don't tell father i have broke my leg
Tell him I'm took queer, that's all. He
wouldn't stand no setting of it if he knew
my leg was broke-he'd have it off. he
would He is such man for doing
things thorough"
l snatched hasty breakfast, and hur-
ried over the cliffs to Bonport There
! called at nay great-grandfather's lodg-
ings The chandler had not seen him for
two days. "He gees away for d spell now
and again." he said. j tried the houses
all along the struggling High street, and
coming to the pier questioned the gangs
of loafers at the end. Everyone knew
old Peter, but none had seen him for the
last day or two, nor could anyone give
q hint as to where he might be found.
''He takes it in his head it was explain
ed, land off he goes Tor to find better
elsewhere. Sometimes he goes tc one
place, and sometimes to anethe.,, but
there's no regular telling where fancy
will lead the old man. And he don't tell
anyone where he's going, or ask anyone,s
advice, being world too masterful to
think you can know better an what he
do"
At half-past eleven gave up the
search as hopeless, and returned to Bon
port.
II forecast it," said my grandfather
when he heard of my i'll success; sits
al'ust in foul weather you lose a thole
pin. Shet that door close I've got
someat to say to you as no mortal man
must know"
closed the door and went back to his
bedside.
You're got to take your dying oath
of secrecy-your sacred dying oath" he
said solemnly, screwing his .brows to-
gether.
You may tell me what you please"
said l, "but l shall not bind myself to
anything"
This come of giving you a good edu- |
cation, Why, my father would knock my |
head off if i dared to answer him in that
disobedient spirit, and here am | nigh |
on ~ years old. You won't lake your dy- |
ing oath?"
No"
Come, sonny, you amt such a un- |
natural young viper that if | told you
something as might cause the death of a |
u
to the wcrldT'
1T is not likely that I would"
Then without taking no oaths you |
kind of give your solemn promise that |
you won't let anyone know what I'm |
going to tell you. We won't argify the |
matter; but there that is settled" He
drew his hand from under the bed clothes.
and put a key in my hand.
This is the key of the cottage You're
got to go up there directly" He Owed
under the clothes and brought up another
key. This is the key of the well in
the wash'us." he said, with some trepida-
ton. You'll unlock the cover and let
down some victuals in the bucket. When
you feel the bucket touch the bottom.
you'll whistle like as if you was calling
3 dog; then you'll count Hfty slow and
pull up the bucket. After which vou'u
shet the cover down, lock it careful. come
out of the house. and lock that careful
and so bring both keys back to me in
not less than two hours at the outside
What is at the bottom of the well?"
asked in amazement | sonld see. as
he narrowed his eyes and passed his
tongue round his mouth. that he was pre-
pairing lie for me.
What's down theref" he said: why
4 live thing. What live things do they
Sene'aily keep at the bottom OF a pit?
Why, bears. That's it: it's bear. It's
a PET of fathers. / don't say but what
he's mad to keep bear; that's neither
here nor there. He'd just take and knock
my brains out il l didn't keep it alive
and now you know why I've been so anx-
ious to find him, and in such a pickle
about not getting home
He seemed perfectly satisfied with this
naive explanation. and con-
ident that l accepted it for the truth.
And what yictuals am | to put in
the bucketw l asked
There's a bit of pork on the wash'us
shelf-cut a rasher above half an inch I
thick, and there's billed taters; put in J
three. and Likewise there's loss of bread. |
cut slice of that middlin' thin. about !
J inch aad half or two inches through
Having Civar. me- &haS,