ugh they make me learn a
trade I hate, yet I do not think I should dare to run away."

"Well, you poor mouse-heart, stay at home, then, and tie
yourself to your mamma's apron-strings!" was the reply. "Do as
you please; but, I tell you,--and I trust the secret to you, and
hope you won't _blow_ it,--I have made up my mind to go to sea."

"Will you run away?"

"Indeed I will."

"When?"

"Why should I tell you, if you will not go with me?"

"Well, I want to be off with you, but how can I?"

"Easy enough. But I will see you to-morrow night, and we will
talk it over. It is time to go home."

"I must see Dick Vanderpool, and find out where the text was,
so that I can tell the old folks."

CHAPTER II.

REVOLVING AND RESOLVING.

Conversations similar to those recorded in the last chapter,
were frequently held between the two lads, during the next
month. Will Manton's determination was fixed, and he was making
secret preparations to start upon his wild journey. Rodney,
though equally desirous to escape the restraints of home, could
not yet make up his mind to risk the adventure. He regarded his
comrade as a sort of young hero; and he wished he had the
courage to be like him.

One Monday morning, in June, as he was returning from his work,
he saw Will Manton's old grandfather standing before the door,
looking up and down the street; and he noticed that he seemed
very uneasy, and much distressed. When he came opposite the
house, on the other side of the street, the old gentleman called
him over, and asked him, "Rodney, do you know where Will is?"

The boy's heart beat wildly, and his cheek turned pale; for he
at once surmised that his comrade had carried out his purpose.
He stammered out, in reply,

"I have not seen him since last Friday night."

"It is very strange," said the old man. "He has not been at
home since last Sunday, at dinner-time. What has become of him?"

Will Manton was gone!

To the anxious inquiries that were made, his friends discovered
that he had left Albany in the evening boat, on Tuesday, for New
York. Though a messenger was immediately sent after him, no
trace of him could be discovered. A few months after, they
received a letter from him, written from Liverpool, where he had
gone in a merchant-ship, as a cabin-boy. His friends were very
much grieved and distressed, but hoped that he would soon grow
weary of a hard and roving life, and return to his home.

There was a roman