Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1924-02-14
Copyright by The Bobbs- Merrill Co.
CHAPTER x-continued.

began to form, slowly-a face hand
some in spite of its forbidding beard,
formidable spectacles and drawn,
peering eyes. Every act of the eccen-
trio Observation-Disclosures since the
day the Milford stage dropped him
In front of the post Office, passed be-
fore his mind-every act, as far as
known, had been scrupulously circum-
spect.
Dreaming there by the dead embers
of the fire, the woodsman found HIM
self analyzing the preacher, in his
careful way, from shiny boots to high
hat The ill-health excuse he had
never believed, or rather. had set 1t
down to an imaginary ailment-the
man looked absolutely fit to enter
cross-country relay. He eliminated the
elaborate frock coat, stiff neck stock,
high hat and ectacles-divested Of
all oddities and accessories, there re-
manned a tall and very capable man.
Then, there was the ivory-handled
six-gun that happened to thud against
the bottom of the skiff, and pair Of
very deft hands feeling over the stacks
of clothes-a circumstance that had to-
tally escaped the other members Of
the SEEMING party. Besides, there was
the perfect agreement of the heel
prints on the dusty deck of the con-
cealed household another circum-
stance that he alone knew.
If he was college professor and a
minister what was he doing in the
Flatwoods? If he was not, still, what
was he doing in the Flatwoods?
AS he pondered, suddenly the dark
face that had hared up from the floor
of the woods and glowered at him
over the log, slid into his mind. So
close it came upon the heels of his at
tempted analysis of the preacher that
the two thoughts fused into one. The
connection was startling. It brought
him up out of his chair and left him
staring through the open cabin door
into the night.
Was there a connection? Might it
be possible that Ken, crime-stained
and low-faIlen, had sneaked back to
the Flatwoods, and the preacher, be-
ing college friend, was trying to be-
friend possibly save him? But
no; there was the letter-it was abso-
lutely genuine
The woodsman Strengthened and
stretched to rouse himself from the
wild spell Of the thought, to drag him
self back from the drift Of it; felt the
revolver at his hip; crossed the floor
and stepped out into the yard.
The night was unruffled; the woods
breathed softly in the pale starlight.
Back in the hills a red fox was bark
ing; over in the bottoms a plover
whistled his melancholy call; the
lonesome wall of timber wolf drift
ed down out of Eagle hollow.
But for The true Woodsnlan the night
mas messages that other ears do not
hear. AS he stood in the yard sitting
the sounds that rode the air, he sud
denly bent forward and stood keenly
listening. The frogs in Eagle run, lust
below the bridge in front of Uncle
Nick's, had abruptly stopped croaking,
only to begin again after a moment,
while the frogs farther down fell si-
ient-somebody was walking along the
bank of the little stream. Somebody
frogs do not stop croaking at the
tread of cattle or other like animals.
1t was near midnight. Why should
anybody be proving in so secluded a
spot at such an hour? The alert and
experienced woodsman could even
gauge the speed of the prowler by the
successive silences that fell as he
moved down the stream. He was go
81 ell
From the bridge at Uncle Nick's a
foot-path led down the east bank of
Eagle run and divided a short dis
tance below, one fork leading around
the base Of Black rock to the War
hope homestead, the other on down
the stream, through a small pasture
lot and into the park-like orchard and
grounds of Simon Colin. 1t was along
this fork of the path that the night
prowler was apparently stealing.
The woodsman hurriedly closed the
cabin door, ran across the corner of
the fallow yard, and the next moment
was creeping cautiously along the fork
of the path that led around under the
dense shadows at the base of Black
rock.
The caution of Jack Warhope was
seldom at fault There was ALWAYS
the chance that the woodcraft of the
man he followed was as fine as his
own. He paid him the compliment of
Keeping back from the stream, out Of
earshot of the frogs, and silently took
up the TRAIL
Where the path crossed the fence
into the little park the prowler
stopped and stood for some time lis
tening intently.
1t is a law of the woods fUndamen-
tai and primary, whether stalking ami
mails or men-that the woodsman
must never move while the creature
he stalks is still. Jack, hardly twenty
steps away, stood quiet as the breath
of the night and waited.
With a final searching look in every
direction, the man by the fence
climbed cautiously over and stole
dawn the creek bank into the little
PACK. Jack crept up to the fence.
crawled over and followed.
At whispering spring the night
orowler crouched down by the rustic
seat, put his hands to his mouth and