The Argosy, Vol. XXV, No. 1 — page 67: what you’re looking at

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

SULLIVAN JONES’ BOARDERS. 67 of these strange fishermen, so he determined to be on the alert for Tom’s signal. © He sat down for a while on the old stone wall of the bridge, and watched the water rushing under the arches. Once he heard a faint roaring sound up the valley, like the rumble of a distant train, but it stopped suddenly. He felt thirsty, and wanted a drink; but he dared not leave his post. After a while the station master came down the road toward the village, and as he reached the bridge a man on horseback galloped furiously down the street. ‘‘ Hello Malley, what’s up?’’ called the station master. The foreman pulled his horse up short. ‘Is that you?’’ he cried. ‘' Has Darrel arrived yet with the money ?’’ ‘“No; he’s late tonight.’’ ‘“Good Lord!’’ cried Malley. ‘‘Something’s wrong. ‘There’s no land- slide at Powel’s Creek at all. Hurry back to the station, quick !’’ The station master turned back with Malley, and for a moment Charlie sat there, absolutely dazed ; for all doubt was gone now. Every second was precious. Malley and the station master were already out of sight. Should he run to the station or to the tavern? But no; the tavern was deserted. He had a better plan. Down at the canal, just above the lock, was a little inn, frequented by boatmen, and here at night were to be found all the fishermen of the vil- lage—strong, sturdy fellows, who sat on the benches, smoking and chatting. He dashed over the bridge and down the road, and looking over his shoulder as he ran, he saw behind him a red glare rising over the darkness of the valley. He was close to the river now, for he could see lights shining down toward Marysville. A few steps more, and he ran down to the bank of the canal. | No one was at the lock, but up at the inn the lamp was lit. In three jumps he crossed the swinging bridge. A few yards more and He sprang back in fright as two burly figures rose from the ground and seized him. A gag was stuffed into his mouth, a cold pistol barrel was pressed to his forehead, and, grasped by each arm, he was forced quickly down the towpath. Unable to resist or make any outcry, he was hurried on under the shadow of the old Susquehanna bridge, across a bar of vellow light that actually streamed down from the station, where a loud commotion was already heard, and then the three passed on into the deep shadows of the trees that fringed the towpath. They were directly opposite the Narrows now. On the left lay the canal, dark with the reflected shadows of the mountain ; to the right, the wall of rock, falling sheer and steep to the river—the fainda Bis AES that boiled and raged in their rocky channel. Round the bend they stopped. It was moonlight now, and Charlie easily recognized Mr. Mortlock and Mr. Prior. Prior took the gag from his mouth. e CoOmicooolxs (S@)