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This was the signal agreed upon, and it brought to Mr. Watkins' ears the intelligence that if Captain Beardsley was in his house, he was now shut up in it and could not escape. In less than ten minutes more Jonas and his two guards were heard coming back along the drive-way at double-quick; whereupon Mr.
Enoch was nearing the boundaries of his father's farm now and ever since Simon Halpen had endeavored to evict them and especially since Jonas Harding's death, the possibility of the Yorkers' return had been a nightmare to Enoch. Lying a moment almost breathless behind the tree, he began to recover his presence of mind and fortitude.
Jonas," continued the hunter, turning to the odd genius of whom he was speaking, "you are a good trapper, but I fear you make a bad fore-runner." "Well, I am all right now here in the rear, I suppose," replied the other, with an oddly assumed air of abashment. "A man is generally good for one thing or t'other. If I ain't a good forerunner, it then follows that I am a good hind-runner."
"If he had only known who you were, he would have liked very much to have come along with you; and you would have been good company for each other. "And O, Rollo," said Jonas again, very eagerly, "there's somebody you'll like very much indeed." "Who is it?" said Rollo. "Franco Ney," said Jonas. "Franco Ney!" repeated Rollo; "I never heard a boy named Franco before. How old is he?"
"The President of what, Jonas!" asked Abbott. Jonas lifted his chest and flung the door wide. "The President of the United States of America," he announced, and the President came in. Enoch rose. "Don't let me disturb you, Mr. Secretary. I can wait," said the chief executive. "We were quite finished, Mr. President. May I, I wonder, introduce Mr.
'But you should come with me all the same, Jonas, said Walter. 'You see I can very well manage one, but I am not quite accustomed to wolves yet, and he might tear holes in my new trousers. 'Well, just listen, said Jonas, 'I am beginning to think that Walter is not so brave as people say.
Through the open door, a wind, fragrant from long wanderings over orchards and clover meadows, drifted in, and, from the window, Mrs. Eben and her guest could look down over a long, misty valley sloping to a sparkling sea. Mrs. Jonas Andrews was spending the afternoon with her sister-in-law. She was a big, sonsy woman, with full-blown peony cheeks and large, dreamy, brown eyes.
'Old, no doubt, replied Miss Charity; 'but a fine old gentleman. 'A fine old gentleman! repeated Jonas, giving the crown of his hat an angry knock. 'Ah! It's time he was thinking of being drawn out a little finer too. Why, he's eighty! 'Is he, indeed? said the young lady.
"What fire?" said James. "The fire they burn under the balloons, to make the air hot," said Nathan. "I don't believe they have any fire," said James. Just then Nathan, happening to look around, saw Jonas standing behind them; he had just come out of the house, and was going out to his work. Hearing the boys engaged in this dispute, he stopped to listen. The boys both appealed to Jonas.
Brent took Jonas into her confidence. She was a silent, secretive woman by nature, and could her plan have been carried out without imparting it to any one, she would gladly have had it so. But Jonas must be her active accomplice, and it was as well to let him know at once what he must do. In the evening, when Jonas, tired with his day's skating, was lying on the lounge, Mrs.
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