Argosy, Vol. 1 (1882) — page 66: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ON THE TRAIL OF A MYSTERY. 57 Six miles or more away, across the valley, was the home of Tom Auckland, which we ought to reach by night. There, under the guidance of Jake, and by using my pony Jack between us, we could readily get to McVeyville, and by the time we boarded the train, we would consider all our troubles ended; or, we might wait until daylight before leaving the mountaineer’s cabin, for his house would be quite safe from in- vasion, since he belonged to the other faction. | “ You don’t forget one great disad- vantage, Dick,” I said in enumerating the advantages. “ What is that?” “ The walk across the valley and to the Aucklands’ would be of the easiest nature if we stuck to the trail, but that’s the very thing we can’t do.” The exasperating feature of the busi- ness was that my companion and I, as the reader will recali, were totally un- armed. In case of discovery, therefore, by any one of our enemies we would be wholly at his mercy. The question of our success in getting out of the dangerous neighborhood depended en- tirely npon our being able to avoid dis- covery while on the way. Just as soon as our enemies learned of our flight, they would be after us hot footed, and the trail leading across the valley to the other mountain was the one they would naturally expect us to follow, and which consequently we must not follow. Laborious as was the work, we must “blaze” a new track through the wilderness. We had no doubt of our ability to keep the right direction, for there were abundant landmarks to guide us. It would be more difficult at night, but we could then use the trail itself, which was so distinctly marked that it would be comparatively easy to follow. “It is only a short distance off,” I said; “ why not remain where we are until dark? ” “ TI can’t do it,” replied Dick; “ I am . too nervous—too impatient; if this thing keeps up much fonger my in- sanity will cease to be pretended.” “Very well; you are familiar with your surroundings; lead the way and I will follow.” Before starting, we stood several minutes intently listening. My friend’s belief was that the Widow Wickliffe would soen awake to the fact that we had fled, and would issue some sort of signal to summon the party we held in so much dread. But the stillness was as profound as at “creation’s morn.” Dick took the lead, and the next minute we were picking our way around boulders, rocks, through undergrowth, and be- tween trees, keeping steadily to the westward, which was tn the direction of the cabin of Tom Auckland. It need not be said that we used every precaution, and as a consequence our progress was slow. Every now and then we halted and listened. The chir- uping of a bird or the chattering of a squirrel darting along the limbs over- head was all the sound that came to us, and when we had progressed some- thing like a half mile, both were greatly encouraged. [ felt some misgiving lest Dick’s strength should prove unequal to the strain, but there is no tonic like hope, and he really showed less evi- dence of fatigue than myself. We had sat down on one of the boul- ders that were almost everywhere, and though the day was chilly, { used my hat as a fan, and found it a relief. “Do you see that?” asked Dick, pointing to the ground immediately in front of us. “T see nothing unusual,” I replied. “Look again,” he added with a smile. “ By gracious!” I exclaimed, “ it is the trail.”’ “ Of course; that’s why I stopped here.” There was the plainly marked path hardly ten feet away from us. It was a startling discovery, and, springing to my feet, I glanced p. and down it, C(O AMUCLE OKOKS (CO)