The Fourth Watch

by H. A. Cody

"You give this to Tony, please," and Dan held up a little folded slip of paper.

Tower looked at the paper, and turned over the wad of tobacco in his cheek before replying. Then a quaint twinkle shone in his eyes.

"I can't take that," he said. "'Tain't lawful. No stamp. Say, kid, guess the only way fer ye to deliver that is to take it yerself. Git up, Bess," and with a hearty laugh the postman swung on his way, and all that day told the story wherever he stopped.

"Ye should have seen his face an' eyes," he chuckled. "It was as good as a circus. Thar was no stamp on the letter, an' when I told 'im to go himself an' deliver it, he jist stared at me. Ha, ha, it was too funny fer anything."

But Dan, as he stood in the road watching Tower drive away, did not see anything funny. His faith in the postman had received a rude shock. His hero was made of common clay after all. He sighed as he walked back to the house, clutching in his hands the little crumpled piece of paper. As the days passed and the new trouble arose at the Rectory, Dan became very restless. He knew of everything that was going on, and when the Bishop arrived he gazed upon him with awe mingled with fear and anger. Often he would draw forth the letter, from a deep, capacious pocket, and look long and carefully upon it.

At length the moment arrived when his mind was fully made up. He bade Nellie and her father good-night, and crept upstairs to his own little room. For some time he sat upon the bed lost in thought. He heard Nellie come up the stairs and enter her own room. Drawing up the blind and turning down the light, he looked out of the window. How dark it was, and dismal. He would wait awhile until it became lighter. Throwing himself upon the bed without undressing, he drew a quilt over him and ere long was fast asleep. When he opened his eyes a dim light was struggling in through the window, and contending slowly with the blackness of night. Dan was sleepy, and the bed so comfortable, that he longed to stay where he was. But this feeling was soon overcome, and springing to his feet he stood listening and alert, as a creature of the wild startled from its lair. Not a sound disturbed the house. Everything was wrapped in silence. Quietly he moved out of his room, and crept softly down the stairs, fearful lest at every creak Nellie should be aroused. Reaching the kitchen he put on his shoes, which he had left by the stove. Next he went into the pantry, found some cold meat, bread, cheese and biscuits. A paper bag lying near was soon filled and securely tied with a stout string. Dan sighed as he donned his cap, drew on his mittens, closed the back door, and stood by the little outside porch. In his heart he felt it was wrong to go away without telling Nellie and her father where he was going. But on the other hand he was quite sure they would not be willing for him to go so far away, and besides he did not wish to tell them anything until the deed had been accomplished.

The early morning air was cool, clear and crisp. The sun had not yet risen, but far away in the eastern sky the glory of another new-born day was clearly visible. Dan's heart responded to the freshness and the beauty which lay around him. As the daylight increased the feeble chirp of half-awakened birds fell upon his ears. The old longing for the wild filled his soul. He thought of his father, the little cabin in the valley, and the woodland haunts he knew and loved so dearly. His eyes sparkled with animation, and the blood tingled and surged through his body. He felt like shouting at the mere joy of being alive.

"Guess I must be like the bears," he thought. "They stay in their dens all winter and come out in the spring. I'm just like one now."

He knew the direction, for had he not listened time and time again to the conversations in the store? The talk had often turned upon Rodgers & Peterson's big lumbering operations in Big Creek Valley. Yes, he was sure he could find the place. Up the river to Rocky Point, from thence along a big cove, then over a hill and down into a valley. He had dreamed of the way; how long it would take him, and what he would say when he got there. All day long he plodded steadily onward, and when night shut down he stopped by a large stack of hay which had been brought from the lowlands when the river was frozen. He was tired, and the soft hay inviting. Into this he crawled, and ere long was fast asleep. Early the next morning he was up and on again. His supply of food was now getting low. At noon he ruefully viewed the little that was left. "Enough only for supper," he murmured. "Maybe I'll get there to-morrow."

During the day he learned from several people he met that he was on the right road. They had looked with interest upon the little figure, and asked him numerous questions. But Dan gave only indefinite answers. He wished to go to Big Creek Valley to Rodgers & Peterson's lumber camp. When the second night arrived he was very weary and footsore. He had eaten his last scrap of food before sundown, and as he trudged on he wondered what he would do in the morning. He disliked the idea of asking at any of the farm-houses for food. His father had always scoffed at tramps and beggars. "They are spongers," he had often said, "and people cannot afford to have such useless people around."