of being ferried across to Boston.

It was well the journey was ended, for the heaving flanks of Master
Cotton's horse told that he had been ridden so long at full speed as to be
well-nigh exhausted.

Immediately on leaving Salem, Walter had debated in his mind as to the
choice of roads. By making a long detour he could ride directly into the
city of his destination; but it would be at the expense of considerable
time, which he believed to be precious.


On the other hand, by traversing the shortest road he would, as he now
did, find himself penniless, with a broad stretch of water to be crossed
before the message could be delivered.

"I shall get over in some way," he had said, as he arrived at a decision,
and now was come the time when that "some way" must be found.

"It is certain I shan't be able to take the horse with me," he said, after
a brief time of silence, "and I must look around for a place in which he
can be hidden."

By riding slowly along the shore-line, he soon found a spot where the
grass was luxuriant, which was hidden I from view of those on the road by
a heavy growth of trees, and here he resolved Master Cotton's horse should
be left to take care of itself. It was not probable the tired animal would
stray very far from where food could be had in such abundance, and Walter
made no other preparation for the halt than to secrete the saddle and
bridle in the thicket.