Neither Mr. Lord, Castle, nor Jacobs were in sight, and everything seemed favorable for his flight. During the afternoon he had carefully noted the direction of the woods, and he started swiftly toward them now, stopping only long enough, as he was well clear of the tents, to say, in a whisper:
"Good-by, Mr. Treat, an' Mrs. Treat, an' Ella, an' Ben. Some time, when I'm a man, I'll come back, an' bring you lots of nice things, an' I'll never forget you—never. When I have a chance to be good to some little boy that felt as bad as I did, I'll do it, an' tell him that it was you did it. Good-by."
Then turning around, he ran toward the woods as swiftly as if his escape had been discovered, and the entire company were in pursuit.
[to be continued.]
[BLUEBIRDS.]
BY GEORGE COOPER.
A mist of green on the willows;
A flash of blue 'mid the rain;
And the brisk wind pipes,
And the brooklet stripes
With silver hill and plain.
Hark! the bluebirds, the bluebirds
Have come to us again!
The snow-drop peeps to the sunlight
Where last year's leaves have lain;
And a fluted song
Tells the heart, "Be strong:
The darkest days will wane.
And the bluebirds, the bluebirds
Will always come again!"