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Updated: June 20, 2025
We remained motionless, watching them until they disappeared around the corner of the shed. Brennan walked with stern face, his step heavy, she with averted eyes, a slight smile of triumph curling her lip. Then Moorehouse stooped and picked up the derringer the Major had thrown away. "By thunder, but she's right!" he exclaimed emphatically. "I tell you that's a mighty fine woman.
Undoubtedly this feeling exhibited itself in my manner, for Captain Moorehouse said finally: "I realize your natural anxiety to be off, Captain Wayne, and while we should be very glad to keep you with us indefinitely, yet I trust you will feel perfectly free in the matter." "I thank you greatly," I answered, rising as I spoke.
I was obliged, owing to business, to leave Mesopotamia in midwinter, and to save a very circuitous journey I decided to travel down the gorge of the Rangitata some twenty-five miles, to the station I referred to once before belonging to Mr. B. Moorehouse.
In this he was assisted by Col. Moorehouse, who kept a tavern on a site in South Dover, opposite the brick house which now stands one-half mile south of the Methodist Church. I have spoken above of the sullen loyalty of the Quakers to the British Crown during the Revolution.
Moorehouse, for nothing is more common in America than to see an inn kept by a colonel ... the most esteemed and most creditable citizen." There was no inn on Quaker Hill and no colonel. The Quaker aversion to military titles was then as great as to the sale of rum. The houses referred to by the French traveller were probably the northern boundary of the Quaker community, at what is now Webatuck.
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