Jack and His Seven Foes — page 192: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

“) | 1408 sD is Sev a ‘ons reees: are oe ot mS on ® Tt etal not abort some > difficulty fae he extracted from them theinforma- tion he needed as to the route taken by - the N eweombe family. at ‘ : 3 y . - » — coolly ; “You see,” said the new manager of the new works. “vou may be the leader of a lot of rawdies for all we know.’ “T am an edueated Enelishman,”’ gaid Deane, ‘‘a Master of Arts.” “ That’s nothing,” said the manager, “af any thing, it’s against you. Swells like you don’t find it easy to get a living out here, and take to rough _ ways to get bread.” “Thank you, my friend.” “No offence. It’s true, as you must know. But I think I can trust you. Bear due east—don’t waver half a point, and you will come upon the Newcombes. They are heavily waggoned, and travel slowly.” “With hearty thanks, Deane rode on, and late on the next day overtook the Newcombes on the plain. He told his story, and the waggons were put about for where Jack lay. “Time doesn’t matter to us, does it, lass?” said Abel Nespeomne and she _ answered with a glad smile. They went back to Jack, and Harold Deane rode on ahead to break the news a . ‘a “ee a ™ ec % + - Pom, = v2 of their coming gently to him. Hedid it with the tact of a centleman, and Jack received no shock. He was still very weak when they arrived, but the sight-of Annie appeared to have a very healing influence over him. “J promised to come to you,” he said. “And I have come to you,’ she answered. ‘‘ What matters—so that we have met ?” They were very young lovers. Jack was not more than nineteen, but he looked at least ten years older, and, as Mr. Newcombe remarked, a little wait- ing would not harm them. “It is my intention,” said Jack, talk- ing over the matter with her, “ to go to England and study.” ; “For what 2” she asked. “T have not decided yet.” _ “ You shall study to please ’ said Mrs. Newcombe, “and aaa you are Bee irons you shall marry Annie.” “But lam poor,’ he urged. - “‘ All the better. If the rich alwa parry the rich, what will become of the a will want somebody to look after her money, and you are the lad of our choice.” And so Jack said no more, wisely accepting the happy lot in store for hin. It was fully four months ere he could be pronounced fit to travel, sotremendous had been the wear and tear of his life, culminating in that never-to-be-forgotten night; but at last he was well and strong again. poor P No 0, Tole when we die, Annie . A very happy time had been spent in | their little Eden, and when the morning came for them to leave, John Corbay and his wife felt as if die sun of their lives were going to set. But there was joy in store for them. Abel Neweombe called the pair aside, and asked if they would lke to go as far as New York with them. “TJ can’t go there yet,” said Corbay, hanging his head. “Vou can,” said Abel Newcombe. “‘T know your story. Don’t wince, man, we are none of us too honest under strong temptation. I know your story, I say.” ‘“‘ How, then, can I go there? ”’ “YT have been in communication with your employers. The sum due to them has been paid.” “By whom?” asked the startled husband and wite together. “By me. I don’t want thanks—the sum is nothing. I can spend as much any day before breakfast. Here is an acknowledgment trom your late employers, declaring there to be no debt between you. Now let us go in to breakfast.” He refused to hear anything about thanks, and laughed at the absurdity of being repaid at any future time. “We are in your debt, man,” said; ‘‘say no more.’ Two hours later, the whole party were homeward bound. i % he % + * ¥ Jack’s story is told. The-sorrowful beginning, and the glad ending. if you would know more of him, you. must go to a sweet spot in Devonshire, where he now lives happily married. Only afew years of such happiness does he know, for he is not yet twenty- - Frere * 7-2. ow "f— EOmichdoo (C cS CO)