“No. We came from the State of Maine here, while most of the other settlers are from Ohio, that is, we went from Maine to Ohio, and from there came here.”
Clara bowed her head and wept sadly, bitterly.
CHAPTER XVII.
A REVELATION.
True to their promise, Old Tumult and Town. returned to the cabin of Talbott Taft the following morning.
As they approached the lonely hut, they saw no sign of life about it, but pushing on they reached the door, upon which Town. gently rapped. But no one bade them enter, and it was then that a strange suspicion rushed across our two friends’ minds, and pushing the door open they entered.
True enough, their suspicions were verified by seeing Talbott Taft sitting bolt-upright in a chair near a rude table, stone dead!
“Self-destruction,” muttered Town., as he pointed to a glass upon the table, in which there was some liquid of a greenish color; and then as his eyes fell upon a folded paper near the glass, he continued: “and here is no doubt a written confession, and a lengthy one too, for there are a number of pages.”
He unfolded the papers and glanced at the head of the writing, which was well executed, though it showed some nervousness of the writer.
“ROMANTIC IMAGINATION—TRAGICAL REALITY.”
These were the words heading the MS., and Town. at once perceived that the writer thereof had been fostering some romantic hopes that had ended in a tragical death.