The Yankee Champion — page 109: what you’re looking at

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

102 THE YANKEE CHAMPION. CHAPTER XII. THE FATAL CAST OF LOTS. Four of the old Tory’s league entered the house with him, and as they took their seats around the fire, one might have seen by their faces that they were far from being pleased with what had trans- pired. Dow and Goss both of them pulled out their black pipes, and dipping them into the embers, they. commenced to smoke. Baxter’s smooth face was as pharisaical in its expression as ever, and Wimper gazed around upon his companions with a deep, cunning look. Silas Ryan’s eyes were fastened upon the fire, and he seemed almost afraid to trust them anywhere else. “There’s no mistake about it,’’ said Dow, taking his pipe from his mouth, and speaking as though it was the continuation of a conversational subject that had been commenced before they entered the house. ‘‘Mason must have made a failure.”’ ‘“A most decided failure for the present,” re- _ sponded Baxter. “But he may yet accomplish his purpose,”’ said Ryan, in a hopeful tone, without taking his eyes from the fire. ‘‘T hope so,’’ added Goss; “‘but I can’t say that I see much hopes of it.’’ 3 “Head, it can’t be that he’s got nabbed, can it?” uttered Dow, seeming to draw the thoughts from a cloud of tobacco smoke that was curling above his head. “Of course not,’ exclaimed Ryan, with sudden —