The Overland Riders were calm. The thrilling experiences through which they had passed, while engaged in war work in France, had taught them to be so.
"Do—do you think—she is hurt?" stammered Emma.
"We sincerely hope not," answered Anne. "Judging from the reports, it was Grace who fired the last shot we heard," said Elfreda Briggs. "Still, that does not prove anything. I would suggest that we arm ourselves at once and prepare for trouble. There appears to be plenty of it abroad in these mountains."
Acting on her suggestion, the four girls hurried to their tents and armed themselves with rifles, then, taking positions around the outer edge of the camp, just within the bushes, they watched and waited, observed by Washington Washington with wide, frightened eyes.
It was Elfreda who made the first discovery. She caught the faint sound of some one moving through the bushes and raised her rifle.
"Halt! Who comes?" she demanded as she saw the bushes sway, a few yards ahead of her, as some one worked their way slowly through them.
"It's Grace," came the answer. "Help me in."
"Girls!" called Miss Briggs sharply, springing forward. She paused at the first glimpse of Grace Harlowe's face, which was pale; then hurried to her.
There were flecks of blood on Grace's cheek, and by that token Elfreda Briggs knew that she had been hit.
"Got a smack, I see."
"Just a mere scratch," replied Grace. "It made me feel weak and dizzy, but I shall be myself in a few moments."
Elfreda led her companion into the camp, then examined Grace's wound, which, as the Overland girl had said, was a mere scratch overthe left temple. Miss Briggs washed the wound where a bullet had barely grazed the skin, and applied an antiseptic.
"Lie down a few minutes, Loyalheart," she urged.
Grace shook her head.
"I shall get my bearings sooner if I keep on my feet. I am ashamed of myself to give way to a little thing like a bullet scratch."
"That's because you're out of practice. You haven't been shot since last summer," said Emma Dean soothingly. "You won't mind it at all after you have been shot again a few times."
Grace laughed so merrily that, for the moment, she forgot the pain of her wound.
"Emma Dean, you are a regular tonic. I thank you. Now I am all right. Where is Hippy?" she questioned, gazing about her.
"Hippy!" wailed Nora Wingate. "Where is he?"
"He went out when we heard you shoot," Elfreda informed Grace. "Did he miss you?"
"I have not seen Hippy since I left this camp. He must have got lost," replied Grace. "Elfreda, fire three interval shots with your rifle to guide him in."
Miss Briggs did so, and all listened for an answer, but none came. Acting on Grace'ssuggestion, Elfreda fired further signal shots, and still no reply from Lieutenant Wingate.
Grace, finally becoming disturbed at Hippy's long absence, announced her intention of going out to look for him, and was giving her companions directions about signaling her when Hippy Wingate came strolling into camp, his clothing torn and his face scratched from contact with brier bushes. "Hulloa, folks," he greeted, grinning sheepishly.
"My darlin', my darlin', are you hurt?" cried Nora, hurrying to him solicitously.
"No. I got lost and just found myself. Where do you suppose I was? Why less than ten rods from this camp all the time. Never saw such a country for mixing a fellow up. Confound the whole business. If my property is in such a mess as this I'll set the lazy mountaineers at work clearing it up before I'll set foot on it. Hey! What hit you, Brown Eyes?"
"A bullet."
"I heard it. I mean I heard the shot, and, like the hero I am, I ran to the rescue, but got all tangled up," explained Hippy.
"Didn't you hear our shots?" demanded Anne.
"I heard 'em, but I was too busy untangling myself to answer. I thought the shots sounded off the other way and got deeper into the mess trying to find the camp."
"You are a fine woodsman," rebuked Elfreda.
"Yes, and you wouldn't be here yet had it not been for me," declared Emma Dean.
"How's that?" demanded Hippy.
"Well, you see, when we found that you did not come back and we surmised that you were lost, I just sat down and con-centrated. Then you came back, just like the cat did in the old story."
"Where did you get that piffle?" chortled Hippy when his laughter had subsided.
"From a professor who visited our town last winter. He said that, by con-centrating, one could bring anything to pass that he wished—provided he con-centrated intently enough and long enough. Why, he said that a person, by con-centrating properly, could move a house if he wished."
The Overlanders shouted.
"You'd better see a doctor," advised Hippy. "Brown Eyes, you haven't told me what happened to you. Who shot you?"
"I don't know. I did not see the person who did it. He saw me, evidently. Perhaps, catching a glimpse of my campaign hat, he thought it was you and shot at me. I let go at him, and we had it out. His second shot hit me and my third hit him. How badly I don't know, but heplainly had enough and got away without even picking up his rifle. It is out there yet, unless he returned for it."
"Did you follow him?" asked Nora.
"A few yards only, then I got dizzy and had to sit down for a few moments. That is all I know about it. I think we had better pack up and move."
"I sincerely hope the next stopping place may be more peaceful than those that have preceded it," said Miss Briggs.
"Please hurry, Washington," admonished Grace. "We have delayed much too long, and if we do not make haste we shall not reach our day's objective before dark. I don't fancy traveling here at night without a guide. Can you find your way about in the night, Washington?"
"Yes'm."
"I doubt it," observed Emma.
Soon after that, Grace now feeling fit again, the Overlanders were mounted and on their way, following a narrow trail, dodging overhanging limbs, pausing now and then to consult their map, for they had found that Washington could not be depended upon to guide them. He was useful, but apparently was not overstocked with information about the mountains.
It was after seven o'clock that evening beforethey swung into a valley that, according to the map, narrowed into a cut in the mountains, through which ran a stream of sparkling water fed by equally sparkling mountain rivulets that rippled down to it in silver cascades. The Overland party was still riding under difficulties, for the trail was narrow and, in some instances, overgrown. They were now looking for the stream that the map indicated as being somewhere in the vicinity.
"Here's water," called Lieutenant Wingate, who was in the lead.
"Washington!" called Grace. "What is this stream?"
"Ah reckons it am watah," answered the colored boy, which brought a laugh from the Overlanders.
"Laundry must have been 'con-centrating,'" observed Anne Nesbit.
"This may be Spring Brook," called Miss Briggs. "We shall have to take for granted that it is."
"I think it is," answered Grace as they rode out into a fairly open space and discovered the cut in the mountains through which the stream was flowing.
The ponies already were showing their eagerness to wade into the water and drink, and Grace had just headed her mount towards the streamwhen she brought him up with a sharp tug on the bridle-rein.
Just ahead of her stood a tall, gaunt mountaineer leaning on his rifle. The expression on his face was not one of welcome, but Grace Harlowe saw fit to ignore that.
"Howdy, stranger," she greeted, smiling down at the man.
"Howdy," grunted the man, as they regarded each other appraisingly.
"Where do ye-all reckon yer goin'?" he demanded gruffly.
"Is this Spring Brook?" interjected Hippy.
"Ah reckon it air."
"Then that is where we are going."
"Yer kain't go this a-way," replied the mountaineer.
"Why can't we?" demanded Grace.
"'Cause Ah says ye kain't."
"Perhaps you do not know who we are. We are a party out for a ride through the Kentucky mountains. We ride every summer. We have no other object, and, if you will pause to consider, you will see that we can do no harm to you or any one else by going where we please in this part of the country," urged Grace.
"Ah knows who ye be. Turn aroun' an' git out o' here right smart!"
"You are making a mistake, sir," warnedGrace. "If there is good reason why we should not go up this gorge we will go around it on the ridge."
"Ah said git out! Ye kain't go up the gorge nor over the ridge. Git out o' the mountains!"
"Not this evening, we won't!" shouted Lieutenant Wingate, now thoroughly angered, as he gathered up his reins.
Bang!
A bullet from the mountaineer's rifle went through the peak of Hippy Wingate's campaign hat, lifting it from his head and depositing it on the ground.
"Don't draw!" cried Grace in a warning voice as Hippy let a hand slip from the bridle-rein.
"Put yer hands up! All of ye!" commanded the mountaineer, the muzzle of his rifle swinging suggestively from side to side so as to cover the entire party.
All except Nora Wingate obeyed the command to hold up their hands.
"I'll not put me hands up for the likes of you!" she retorted, her eyes snapping, as she deliberately got down from her pony.
"Don't do anything foolish," warned Grace Harlowe.
Unheeding the warning, Nora stepped over and picked up Hippy's hat, eyed the hole in it, the color flaming higher and higher in her face. Nora then walked straight up to the mountaineer, apparently unconscious of the fact that his rifle was now pointed directly at her.
The mountaineer was nearer death at that moment than he knew, for two hands had slipped to two revolver butts resting respectively in the holsters of Grace Harlowe and Lieutenant Wingate. What mad thing Nora had in mind they could not imagine, but they did not believe the fellow would dare to shoot her down in cold blood, for it must be plain to him that she was unarmed.
"Look what you did!" she demanded, holding up the hat that the mountaineer might see the bullet hole in it. "You put a bullet through my husband's perfectly good hat. Aren't you ashamed of yourself? That hat cost him eight dollars, and if I thought you had eight dollars in the world, I'd make you pay for it. You're a cheap ruffian, that's what you are!"
Nora's chin was thrust out belligerently. At this juncture her right hand flashed up to the nose of the mountaineer. The fingers closed over that prominent member and Nora Wingate gave it a violent tweak.
The fellow's jaw sagged. He appeared actually dazed and the muzzle of his rifle, that Nora had thrust to one side as she boldly stepped up to him, had been permitted to sink slowly towards the ground.
Nora Wingate did not stop there. She soundly boxed the fellow's ears, first with the right, then with the left hand, each whack giving his head a violent jolt to one side.
"Jump back!" It was Grace Harlowe who, in an incisive tone of voice, gave the order to Nora.
"Why should I jump back?" demanded Nora, turning a flushed face to her companions. What she saw, however, caused Nora to take a few slow steps backwards. Three revolverswere pointed over her head at the mountaineer. The revolvers were in the hands of Grace Harlowe, Lieutenant Wingate and Elfreda Briggs.
The mountaineer saw the weapons at the same time.
"Drop it!" bellowed Hippy. "Drop it or I'll bore you full of holes!"
The mountain man permitted his grasp on his rifle to relax and the weapon fell to the ground.
"Back up!" commanded Hippy. "Don't play any tricks, and keep your hands away from your holster. Keep him covered, Grace, while I dismount. You, fellow! Take notice! We know how to shoot, probably better than you do. If you try any tricks you'll get what's coming to you. Turn around and stand still with your hands as high above your head as they will go. Good!"
Hippy dismounted and, with revolver at ready, stepped over to the man who was now standing with his back to the Overland Riders.
"Don't make a move! I'm going to take your revolver," warned Lieutenant Wingate, pressing his own revolver against the mountaineer's back. He then jerked the fellow's weapon from its holster and tossed it behind him. Nora picked it up.
"Turn around!"
The mountaineer faced him, his face contorted with deadly rage.
"I'll kill ye fer this 'ere!" threatened the man.
"Not this evening you won't. Listen to me, Mister Man. We are not here to interfere with you or with your business, and we wish to be let alone. So long as we are let alone, we shall move along peaceably. When we are not, some one is going to get hurt right smart. Get me?" Hippy thrust out his chin pugnaciously.
The mountaineer did not reply, but his eyes, and the malignant scowl on his face, voiced the thought that was uppermost in his mind.
"Now turn around, face up the gully and sprint when I give the word. Don't you show up in this vicinity until to-morrow. You will find your rifle and revolver right here where I am standing. We don't want any such antiquated hardware. Don't stop until you get to the other end of the gully, if you value your life. Go!"
The mountaineer started away at a brisk trot, never once looking behind him.
"Shoot! Make him dance," urged Emma Dean excitedly.
"No!" replied Grace incisively. "We are not savages."
"Why didn't you 'con-centrate' on him andsave us all this bother?" demanded Hippy. "Nora darling, I am proud of you," he said, turning to her smilingly. "But never do a crazy thing like that again. Even Emma Dean could do no worse. What's the next thing on the programme, Grace? Do we go on or do we camp here?"
"I don't like the climate of Spring Brook at all. It is too warm and malarial for me," interjected Miss Briggs.
"I agree with you, J. Elfreda," replied Grace laughingly. "I would suggest that we detour to the right and proceed over the ridge, and on into the mountains where there may be a probability that we shall not be molested. What do you say, people?"
"I think we all agree with you," answered Anne.
"Yes, let's seek the seclusion of the mountain fastness and have Emma sit up and 'con-centrate' all night. If she can move a house and lot with her con-centration stunt, she surely should be able to move that touchy mountain savage further away from us," suggested Hippy to the discomfiture of Emma and the great amusement of her companions.
"I think you are real mean," pouted Emma.
"Would it not be a wise thing to do to leave one of us here for a short time to see if that fellow returns and tries to follow us?" asked Nora, still full of fight. "I should just like to teach him a lesson."
"You already have done so," chuckled Anne.
"Your suggestion is excellent," agreed Grace. "However, it is getting dark and we must locate ourselves before that. That is, we should do so. Let's go!"
The Overlanders then mounted and retraced their steps until they found a place where they could climb to the ridge. Reaching the top, they followed the ridge trail for half a mile, then struck off into the mountain fastness. In order to better hide their trail, they guided their horses into a small stream and rode up that for a full mile, finally finding a suitable camping place.
A cook fire, a small blaze, was made under a shelving rock, and Washington was left to cook the supper while Hippy and the girls watered and cared for the ponies. Supper was ready about the time they finished. The pitching of the tents was left for the boy to attend to while the Overlanders were eating.
"Now that we are composed, what does all this disturbance of to-day mean?" demanded Miss Briggs.
"It may be the result of our running that fellow out of our camp last night, or ratherHippy's running him out. Then again, the incident of to-day may be explained in another way. I first had a duel with some one in the bushes; later, when we headed into Spring Brook valley we may have been getting into the Moonshiners' territory. I understand they are rather touchy when it comes to outsiders penetrating their mountain preserves. At least this last savage was thoroughly in earnest when he ordered us to get out. I fear we should have gotten into trouble had it not been for Nora." Grace smiled at the recollection of Nora's chastisement of the mountaineer.
"Surely, they do not think we are revenue officers, do they?" asked Anne.
"They are suspicious of all strangers," Hippy informed his companions. "I had a friend in the flying corps, who comes from Kentucky, and he told me all about these mountaineers. They are, in a way, simple as children, but bad all through when they differ with you."
"Then, there is the Mystery Man," reminded Nora. "Is he one of them?"
"He may be for all we know about him," answered Elfreda, shrugging her shoulders.
Grace said "no."
"It doesn't seem probable, that, were he one of them, he would have shot one of them in our defense, does it?" she asked.
The Overlanders admitted the force of her argument. Supper finished, they sat about the campfire, now a glowing bed of coals, which now and then was fed and stirred into little ribbons of flame by adding bits of dry twigs.
"I am going to sit up to-night, and watch the camp," announced Hippy after the tents had been pitched and the girls, one by one, had begun to do their hair for the night.
"Yes, it will be wise. When you get sleepy, call me and I will take the watch for the rest of the night," directed Grace.
"I never sleep," remonstrated Hippy.
"He never sleeps," mimicked Emma in a deep voice from her tent, sending her companions into a shout of laughter.
"Except when he is supposed to be awake," teased Anne.
Before turning in, Grace made a circuit of the camp and the bushes and the trees surrounding it, halting where the ponies were tethered to see that they were properly tied for the night. Soon after making camp she had taken possession of Washington's harmonica, for it was all-important that attention be not attracted to their camp that night.
Grace was certain that they had not yet heard the last of their mountain enemies and that trouble might be looked for from that direction,hence no precaution must be overlooked with regard to protecting themselves.
"Tom was right," murmured Grace, when, after giving Washington and Hippy final directions, she had retired to her tent and lain down with rifle and revolver within easy reach.
Lieutenant Wingate put out the fire and sat down to watch, rifle in hand. Grace got up an hour later and, peering from her tent, saw Hippy sitting with his back against a rock. At first she thought he was asleep; then, when she saw him take off his hat and smooth back his hair, she knew that she was mistaken.
It was long past midnight when Grace again roused herself and got up with a feeling that all was not well. A quick survey of the camp from her tent revealed nothing disturbing. Hippy was in the same position in which she had seen him some hours before and not a sound was heard from the ponies' direction.
Picking up her rifle, and strapping on her revolver, Grace stepped over to Hippy and peered down into his face. He was sound asleep and snoring.
"It were a pity to wake him," she muttered, moving quietly away and sitting down within a dozen feet of the sleeping man to guard the camp for the rest of the night.
Grace suddenly tensed with every faculty onthe alert. She thought she heard something moving cautiously in the bushes at the left of the camp. A few moments of listening convinced her that she was right. She knew that none of her outfit was out there and that Washington Washington was sleeping in his little pup-tent a few yards from her, for she could hear him breathing.
The Overland girl used her eyes and ears, and a few moments later she made out a vague form at the edge of the camp. Even then she would not have seen it, had it not moved to one side. The dark background prevented her being able to make anything out of the form, except that it was a human being.
Having satisfied herself of this, Grace raised her rifle, aiming it above the head of the intruder, and waited. Herself being in a deeper shadow, her movements were not observed by the prowler.
Grace put a gentle pressure on the trigger. A flash of fire and a deafening report followed.
Hippy Wingate sprang to his feet.
"Wha—wha—wha?" he gasped.
"Don't get excited," soothed the calm voice of Grace Harlowe. "I shot over the head of a prowler. Go back to your tent, Washington," she directed, as the colored boy ran out ready to bolt into the bushes.
Grace had heard the prowler crash through the bushes in his haste to get away, and felt reasonably certain that they would not be troubled by him again that night. In the meantime the others of her party had sprung from their tents, excitedly demanding to know what had occurred. She told them briefly, and advised that they go back to sleep.
"You too turn in, Hippy," directed Grace. "It is too bad to have spoiled that lovely sleep. I will look after the camp for the rest of the night."
Without a word Lieutenant Wingate went to his tent. He was ashamed of himself despite his former assertion that Nora Wingate always provided this emotion for him.
"I think I'll ask Emma to sit up and 'con-centrate' to keep me awake after this," muttered Hippy, and then lost himself in slumber.
The camp once more settled down and was not again disturbed, but Grace kept her vigil ceaselessly through the rest of the night. The girls did not know the details of the disturbance until breakfast next morning when Grace told them all she knew about the occurrence. After breakfast she and Hippy searched the ground about the camp and found traces of their visitor. In leaving he had made no effort to hide his trail, probably having been in too great a hurry,but Grace did not consider it worth while to try to follow the trail.
"We must make time, you know," she told her companions upon returning to camp. "If we are late in keeping our appointment with Tom, he will be worrying for fear something has happened to us."
"Something probably will have happened to us by that time," observed Elfreda solemnly. "Several somethings, perhaps."
After considerable milling about, after retracing their steps along the mountain rivulet, they found the trail that they were in search of, the footpath that led in the direction that they wished to go. On either side of the path was a jungle-like tangle of shrub and vine, through which the party, riding in single file, were obliged to force their way.
So dense was the foliage that they could not see each other, but they kept up a rattling fire of conversation back and forth, much of which was directed at Hippy who was leading and doing his best to beat down a path for those who were following.
This continued for some time, until finally Hippy's mount seemed to be getting lazy, for Elfreda, who was riding directly behind the leader, bumped into his pony several times.
"Come, come, Hippy! Have you gone tosleep?" demanded Elfreda. "We shall never get out of the tangle at this rate."
There was no reply, and when Elfreda communicated her belief to her companions that Hippy had gone to sleep on his saddle, there was much laughter. Emma called out that, so long as the horse kept awake, they would be all right.
This condition of affairs continued for some little time, until finally Elfreda rode out into a rugged, rocky clearing and made a discovery that, for the moment, left her speechless.
Hippy Wingate's pony was browsing at tender blades of grass that were sprouting from crevices in the rocks, but its saddle was empty.
"Hippy! Oh, Hippy!" called Miss Briggs.
There was no response to her call. The pony raised its head and looked at her and then resumed its eating.
"Grace!" cried Elfreda in a tone that thrilled every member of the party. "Hurry! Hippy has gone!"
The Overlanders came trotting into the clearing, Grace bringing up the rear of the line just ahead of Washington and his mules, who still were some little distance behind.
"What is it?" called Grace as she burst into the clearing.
Miss Briggs pointed to Hippy's empty saddle, and it was not until then that Nora Wingate fully realized the meaning of the scene.
"Hippy, my darlin', where are you?" she cried excitedly.
"Steady now," cautioned Grace. "It will profit us not at all to lose our heads. Spread out and search the clearing. First, tie your ponies so they don't disappear and leave us in the lurch."
The girls quickly slipped from their saddles and began searching, Grace first having examined the saddle of Hippy's pony. She found his rifle in the saddle-boot and his revolver in the holster suspended from the pommel. Thisdiscovery indicated to her that Lieutenant Wingate had not had time to take either weapon with him when he dismounted.
"It is my opinion that Hippy fell asleep and fell off," declared Emma, after they had completed their search of the clearing.
"Oh, what shall we do?" wailed Nora, wringing her hands. "Grace darlin', help me think. I can't think straight. Somebody suggest something."
"When did you first discover that his pony was lagging?" questioned Grace, turning to Miss Briggs.
"I should say that it was twenty or thirty minutes ago."
"Say half a mile back. It is possible that Hippy was unseated by coming in contact with an overhanging limb, though I do not recall having seen any low enough to bump one's head."
"We must go back and try to find him," said Miss Briggs.
"Yes," agreed Grace, her brow puckering in thought. "Anne, I think you had better remain here in charge of the camp. Get your rifles out and be on the alert. This affair looks suspicious to me. Shoot a signal if you need us in a hurry. Elfreda, will you go with me?"
Miss Briggs nodded.
"Bring your revolver. Rifles will be in the way," advised Grace. "You girls stay right here. Do not attempt to leave this spot. Nora, keep your head level. Let's go!"
The two girls started back over the trail on foot, walking briskly. A short distance back from the clearing they met Washington, whom Grace directed to go on and wait for them in the clearing. She did not think it worth while to ask the boy if he had seen Lieutenant Wingate.
"I have a recollection of seeing the bushes trampled down on the left side of the trail as we came along," said Grace, after they had left Washington. "It is possible that there is where Hippy was unhorsed."
"Grace, you suspect something, don't you?"
"I don't know whether I do or not. I will tell you after we have found the place where he left the trail. Does not Hippy's disappearance strike you as being a strange one, Elfreda?" questioned Grace, giving her companion a quick glance of inquiry.
"Yes."
"I think we are nearing the spot to which I referred. Keep your eyes open and move slowly. Should we find nothing there, we will walk along a little way off the trail, each taking a side. There!"
Grace pointed to a spot where the bushes hadbeen lately crushed down. She then laid a restraining hand on her companion's arm, and there they stood for a few moments, fixing the picture of the scene in their minds.
Grace finally parted the bushes and looked in, Miss Briggs peering over her shoulders. Using extreme caution they stepped into the bushes, to one side of the disturbed spot, and there Grace got down on her knees and examined the ground with infinite pains. She then crawled along a short distance, following the trail that had been made by whoever had passed through there.
"How far are you going?" asked Elfreda.
"I don't know."
Grace's search led her a full five hundred yards into the thicket, she halting only when she came to a spot where the brush had been trampled down over several yards of space. The sound of a stream could be heard close at hand.
An examination of the ground there gave Grace a fresh clue, and, after stepping over to the brook and gazing at it briefly, she announced herself as ready to go back.
"What now?" asked Elfreda.
"After I get something we will return to camp. We must hold a consultation. I do not feel like deciding this problem alone."
"I know you have made a discovery, but beyond the fact that some one has trampled down the bushes beside the trail, and that a horse has been standing where we are now, I must confess that I am no wiser than before."
"You have done very well," smiled Grace. "Come with me and I will enlighten you further."
They walked briskly back to the edge of the trail where they had first found the bushes disturbed.
"Two men have stood here. If you will scrutinize the ground you will see the imprint of their hobnailed boots. They stood facing each other, just as you and I are doing at this moment. All at once they turned facing the trail and took a step toward it."
"Wait a moment! Wait a moment! You are going too fast for me, Grace Harlowe. Are you gifted with second sight that you know all this?"
"J. Elfreda, for goodness' sake use your eyes. The footprints are so plain that all you have to do, to understand, is to look at them. They tell the whole story up to a certain point," answered Grace.
"Go on."
"They unhorsed Hippy at that point, and I should not be at all surprised if they hit himover the head with a club or the butt of a revolver. You see how easy it would be to do that without being discovered, the foliage being so dense over the trail. After unhorsing him they at least dragged him back for some little distance before they picked him up. I found the marks of his heels where they had dug into the soft earth as he was being dragged."
"You—you said you wished to—to get something," reminded Miss Briggs, somewhat dazed by her companion's rapid recital.
"Yes. I discovered it when I was on my knees examining the trail here." Grace stooped over and, thrusting a hand into the bushes, brought forth an object which she held up for Elfreda's inspection.
"Do you recognize it, J. Elfreda?"
"Hippy's Hat!" Gasped Miss Briggs."Hippy's Hat!" Gasped Miss Briggs.
"Hippy's hat!" gasped Miss Briggs.
"Yes. Let us examine it. Look at this! Am I right?" demanded Grace triumphantly. "Hippy was whacked over the head with the butt of a revolver, and the blow cut right through the felt. No wonder he made no outcry. He is a lucky fellow if he hasn't a fractured skull. Elfreda, this is serious."
"Both serious and marvelous—serious so far as Hippy is concerned, and marvelous so far as your visualizing the incident is concerned," declared Miss Briggs.
"Do you think we should tell Nora?"
"We must tell her something, and we cannot tell her an untruth," replied Elfreda after brief reflection. "I should advise telling her all except about the hat. We can conveniently forget about the hat. He was taken prisoner by two men, probably in the belief that it was some one else they were capturing."
"I don't think so," interrupted Grace.
"I do," insisted Miss Briggs.
"All right, then you tell the story to Nora. Let's go back."
Grace hid the hat, intending to return for it at another time, as it might be useful as evidence. They then started on to join their companions, both silent and thoughtful.
Reaching the halting place of the party in the clearing, Elfreda, without giving Grace an opportunity to speak, launched forth into a description of what they had discovered—minus the hat.
Nora wept silently, and Emma slipped a comforting hand into hers.
"Don't cry, Nora darling. Hippy will be back. Nobody, not even a mountaineer, could live with him very long. I don't see how you ever stood it so long as you have." Saying which, Emma prudently dropped the hand she was holding, and backed away.
Nora Wingate sprang up blazing, to meet the laughing eyes and impishly uptilted nose of the irrepressible Emma Dean. Nora laughed and wept at the same time, and then quickly pulled herself together.
"I ought to take ye over me knee, but I won't because ye've brought me to me senses. Grace, see how calm I am. I am ready to listen to your plan, knowing very well that you have one in mind. If they haven't killed him, my Hippy will yet beat those scoundrels at their own game. Any man who has fought duels with the Germans above the clouds, and won, surely will be able to outwit a whole army of these thick-headed mountaineers. What do you think we should do?"
"At the beginning of this journey, as well as those we have taken before, it was agreed between us that when one strays away or gets separated from the party, the Overlanders were to go into camp at or as near the point of separation as possible, and wait there a reasonable time for the return of the absent one. That is what I should suggest doing in the present instance," offered Grace.
"Make camp right here?" asked Anne.
"Yes."
"Yes, but are we not going to try to find my Hippy?" begged Nora.
"I think it advisable to wait a reasonable time, so, with the approval of you folks, I will tell Washington to make camp."
This the girls agreed to, though Nora was for setting out in search of her husband at once. That, too, was what Grace Harlowe would have liked to do, but she believed it would be better for them to remain where they were for the time being.
"Couldn't you follow the trail of those men?" asked Nora.
"I did up to the point where they rode into a stream to throw off pursuers, just as we did last night. Of course they had to leave the stream somewhere, but the probabilities are that they were sharp enough not to leave a plain trail where they came out. For instance, they could easily dismount their prisoner on a rocky footing where no trail would be left, carry him on and secrete him, then have one of their party ride the horses in another direction. Don't you see where that would leave us?"
"Oh, yes, I do," moaned Nora. "My wheels are all turning the wrong way. Don't mind me."
"We won't," promised Emma.
Washington, aroused from a day dream, was directed to hustle himself and make camp. While he was busying himself at this, the girlsheld a further conference. At its conclusion, Grace paid another visit to the scene of Lieutenant Wingate's undoing.
This time, Grace followed the trail left by the two men who had captured him, and then on down the stream until she came in sight of a rocky clearing, where she believed the captors had left the brook and followed out the plan that she had visualized.
Grace dared not press her investigation further, nor even show herself, the Overland girl shrewdly reasoning that the spot would be watched by those responsible for Hippy's disappearance. She was not desirous of taking unnecessary chances just yet, for, being the captain of her party, she was responsible for their safety.
All during the rest of the day, after her return to camp, one or the other of the girls was posted outside the camp, secreted in the bushes, to prevent a surprise by intruders. So far as they could discover no one approached the camp.
The camp having been pitched at the extreme end of the open space, the campfire, at Elfreda's suggestion, was built at the opposite end, which, as she pointed out, would leave their tents in a shadow after dark, for there were a few scattering laurel bushes between the tents and the fire,but not so dense that the view was greatly interfered with.
The outside guarding was continued until nearly bedtime, eyes and ears being strained, not only for prowlers, but for the return of Hippy Wingate.
"If we get no word to-morrow, what?" questioned Anne.
"Grace and myself will take the trail," announced Elfreda. "If she does not think it wise to go, I can go alone."
"We will both go, unless something occurs to make our going inadvisable," answered Grace quietly. "Elfreda, you and I will sit up together to-night, if you don't mind."
After the others had turned in and Washington had piled some hard wood on the fire, so that a bed of coals might remain for some hours after the flames had died out, Grace and Elfreda sat down together in the shadows near the tents and began their long night's vigil.
Their conversation was pitched too low to be heard by one a yard away; in fact it was carried on mostly in whispers.
Elfreda's watch showed that it lacked but a few minutes of one when, as she gazed at the illuminated dial, Grace suddenly gripped her arm.
"I heard something in the bushes," whispered Grace. "It may have been an animal. I rather think it was. I—"
Something thudded on the ground between the two girls and the laurel shrubs.
"Wha—at is it?" whispered Grace.
"A stick of wood," replied Elfreda. "It looks like a section of a tree limb. Something white is wrapped about it. Oughtn't we to see what it is?"
"No!" answered Grace with emphasis. "Sit tight. It may be a trick."
With rifles held at ready, ears alert, Elfreda Briggs and Grace Harlowe sat almost motionless until the skies began to assume a leaden gray that foretold the coming of another day.
A few moments later Elfreda crept over and returned with the stick that she had observed to fall. An old newspaper sheet was wrapped about it. This Miss Briggs undid cautiously, Grace's eyes keenly observing the operation.
"Look! There is writing on the lower margin of the sheet," she said.
Miss Briggs turned the page around and eagerly read the words that were penciled there.