"Yes," said Jonas, "I verily believe it is Franco.

"'_Any person who will return said dog to the subscriber, at his
residence at Walton Plain, shall be suitably rewarded_.

"'JAMES EDWARDS.'

"I verily believe it is Franco," said Jonas, as he slowly got down from
the chair,--"Walton Plain."

He stood a moment, looking thoughtfully into the fire.

"Yes," he repeated, "I verily believe it is Franco. I wonder where
Walton Plain is."

Jonas had learned from Mr. Holiday, that it was never wise to
communicate important information relating to private business, unless
necessary. So he said nothing about Franco to any of the people at the
tavern, but quietly went to bed; and, after thinking some time what to
do, he went to sleep, and slept finely until morning.

About daylight, he arose, and, as he had paid his bill the night before,
he went to the barn, harnessed his horses, and set off. At the first
village that he came to after sunrise, he stopped at a store, and
inquired whether there was any such town as Walton Plain, in that
neighborhood.

"Yes," said the boy, who stood with a broom in his hand, with which he
was sweeping out the store,--"yes, it is about five miles from here,
right on the way you are going."