The Owosso times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1897-1926, 1913-02-07


fiat on his chest, while he covered
the gang at work in the new ground
below with small telescope.
| 1t might be curiosity, of course, for
many men regard convict as some
thing abnormal, something that is as
pleasant to stare at as II he were the
cannibal king at fair. And yet that
seemed weak explanation. Was he
in with the police? Had they got
news that an attempt at rescue was
to be made? If so. stood the best
chance in the world of finding myself
in the county Jail within the week.
There was nothing to be gained by
! imagining bad luck. walked back to
the inn, and sat down to a study or
the district with maps had brought
with me. There was only one rail-
road within many miles, and that was
the single track that ran up from Ply
mouth to Princetown village. At the
first signal that a convict had escaped
the station would be full of warders;
so that outlet was barred. South OF
the moor, fifteen miles away, ran an
other branch line ending at Ashbur-
ton. But / was determined to leave
the railroad alone. The stations would
be the first places to be watched by
the police. Torquay, some thirty miles
away, might easily be reached by
good horse and trap within the day.
could hire one for a month through
the landlord, with the excuse that l
wanted 1t for my exploring eXpedi-
tions amongst the stone remains. 1t
would surprise no one IL it were seen
off the roads with a luncheon-basket
prominently displayed. So l decided,
l questioned the girl who brought
the meal to my sitting-room as to old
Hearne, but she could give me little
information. He had arrived at the
inn couple Of days before l APP
peared, and had spent most Of his
time in long walks on the moors. She
thought he had friend amongst the
prison officials, for she had twice
seen him coming out OF the great
gates down the street. That was all
and 1t left me more anxious about
him than before. 1t was becoming
very plain that before took any de-
cided step towards the escape, must
make sure Of this mans business ON
the moors.
After dinner I walked into the inn
bar to buy a smoke, and found
Hearne with his back to the fire, talk
ing to the landlord. AS / entered,
they both dropped into an uneasy
silence. l was certain they had been
discussing me, but I didn't want to
let them know it, and so began to
talk big about the scenery. I stayed
down for about half an hour, and then
allowed that would get back to some
writing had to do.
I'm glad you admire the moor, Mr..
Kingsley" said the landlord, holding
back the door for me. Nothing quite
like 1t In the states. should think"
Upon my soul, was as near as
may lie 10 owning | had never been
there. But | remembered that l was
Abel Kingsley, OF Memphis, just in
time
No." 1 said, Its something quite
unique"
Its a wild place, sir" he went on.
VERY wild and desolate. You should
take walk one night when the moon
is full, as it is now. Then you would
understand how the stories OF ghost
hounds and headless riders and devils
in the mires first started. Mr.. Hearne
here is going to take my advice"
Tonight" I asked, turning to the
old fellow.
mo, Mr.. Kingsley, I am too tired
to think of it tonight" he said. TO
morrow or the next day, perhaps"
/ wished them good evening and
tramped up the stairs to my sitting
room, which looked over the moors
at the back Of the inn. 1t was GER
tainly a splendid night, with a great
searchlight OF a moon drawing the
strange tors-as they call the granite
caps of the hills-in black silhouette
upon the luminous skyline. l lit a
pipe and sat there in the shadows,
thinking, thinking. 1t was pleasant
to be decent man again, to wear
clean linen and boots with real soles;
to wash and shave and brush myself
daily. I was back in my Eden days
before the fall, when six hunters were
in my stable, and men and women
were glad to know Jack Henderson
of Lowood Hall in the best OF coun-
ties; yes, I was away from Prince
town village in the midst OF happy
memories when l came to my senses
with the sound of soft tap-tapping
under the window. There were tip
toe skulking footsteps on the gravel
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