“On the table by my side, in the little tin box, is the will that I promised by all that was sacred to deliver to Clara Holmes. Will the reader of this deliver it to her? It is my last request.
Martha Hohn.”
And thus ended the manuscript, leaving Town. wrapt in wonder and surprise, while Old Tumult seemed terribly agitated.
“Of all the complicated cases of sin and sinners in disguise, this beats me,” exclaimed Town.
Old Tumult made no reply. His agitation seemed to be increasing.
“What’s the matter, Tumult?” asked Town.
“Holmes! Holmes!” muttered the scout, as though he was unconscious of so doing, “as God’s in heaven, it must be so!” and then springing to his feet he cried, excitedly:
“Come, lad, let’s rack out for the post! I believe I’ve struck a bee-line! Fetch the will, lad.”
Town. made no reply, for the scout darted out of the cabin and away toward the post, at such a rapid speed, that he could scarcely keep in sight of him.
“I declare, the old chap is terribly excited,” muttered Town., as he proceeded onward through the forest.