“ Eh,” said Bob, parenthetically, as he looked over the fields on the other side of the river, “there goes that crooked young Wakem. I know him or his shadder as far off as I can see ’em; I’m allays lighting on him o’ that side the river.”
A sudden thought seemed to have darted through Tom’s mind. “I must go, Bob,” he said; “I’ve something to attend to,” hurrying off to the warehouse, where he left notice for some one to take his place; he was called away home on peremptory business.
The swiftest pace and the shortest road took him to the gate, and he was pausing to open it deliberately, that he might walk into the house with an appearance of perfect composure, when Maggie came out at the front door in bonnet and shawl. His conjecture was fulfilled, and he waited for her at the gate. Sh
