FOOTPRINTS IN THE MOSS
Tom Gray had planned to make an early start next morning, so he was up
just before break of day, lighting the cook-fire that Washington had
laid for him. Wisps of smoke from the fire were wafted into Grace's
tent, awakening her instantly.
"Well, Tom, you thought you would steal a march on me, didn't you?" she
chided, as she came out unbraiding her hair.
"I hoped I might. That was why I said good-bye last night."
"You did not think for a moment that I would let you go away without my
getting up to see you off, did you?" she wondered. "No. You should have
known better than that."
"Now that you are here, I will speak what is in my mind. Watch yourself,
Grace. That affair last night disturbs me not a little, because it is
an indication of what you folks may have to contend with up here. The
Kentucky mountaineer is not a gentle animal. He is a man of almost
primitive instincts, and the worst of him is that he doesn't come out in
the open to settle a grudge, but, as a rule, settles it from ambush."
"You forget, Tom dear, that we girls are not tenderfeet, that we are
seasoned veterans of the world war and that the whistle of a bullet is
not a new nor a particularly terrifying sound to us. I hope you will not
worry about us. In three weeks you will be with us. By the way, when did
our Mystery Man leave?"
"When? Why--I--I didn't know--"
"You had not even discovered that he had gone?" chuckled Grace. "Oh,
Tom! There are his blankets within a yard of you, neatly folded, and a
slip of paper pinned to the top one, probably bidding us good-bye and
thanking us for our hospitality. Read it, please."
Tom did so and nodded.
"Just what you thought it was, Grace. You must be gifted with second
sight. About the man Jeremiah Long, who calls himself the Mystery Man, I
have a thought that he is the fellow who shot the mountaineer last
night."
"Tom dear, you're really awake at last, and before breakfast, too. I am
proud of you, my husband. Indeed I am," teased Grace.
"Don't laugh at me. I will confess that it never occurred to me until a
few moments ago. There _is_ something mysterious about the fellow, and I
confess that I cannot make him out."
Grace nodded and her face took on a thoughtful expression.
"He is not only mysterious, but very keen. Last night--I don't know
whether or not you noted the fact--he heard that mountaineer
approaching, and slipped out of camp. I do not believe he went far, but
that where he was he could see and hear all that was going on. Later he
must have hurried around to the rear of the camp, and, when the fellow
was trying to shoot Hippy, Long put a bullet through our caller's
shoulder. I call that good shooting."
"Hm--m--m--m! Now that you speak of it, I do recall that he disappeared
rather suddenly. I am grateful for what he did for us, of course, but,
Grace, I do not wholly trust the man, and, if he comes again, I should
watch him, were I in your place."
"I do not agree with you at all, Tom. The man is a mystery, but I am
convinced that nothing bad lurks behind those twinkling eyes. However,
we shall undoubtedly know more about him later, for I have a feeling
that Jeremiah will play an important part in our operations up here in
the Kentucky mountains. We won't get worked up over him at present,
anyway. To change the subject, I haven't told you that Elfreda has
adopted Little Lindy, the hermit's daughter that we took from the cave
in the Specter Mountains last season. The Overlanders are still her
guardians, but that guardianship will be transferred to Elfreda when we
get back home in the fall."
"Lindy is a lucky girl. The silver mine is panning out big and she will
be a very rich girl by the time she comes of age. Have a cup of coffee
with me?"
"Yes, Tom."
While Tom was eating his breakfast, he and Grace discussed their
personal affairs, then Grace walked with him to the tethering ground,
first having seen to it that Tom's pack contained sufficient food to
last him through his journey of several days to the Cumberlands.
Good-byes were then said and Tom rode away.
After watering the ponies, Grace returned to camp and sat by the fire
thinking, until it was time to call her companions. By the time they
came out she had breakfast ready for them. Washington, who slept in a
little pup-tent, had to be dragged out by the feet by Hippy before he
was sufficiently awake to function.
"Laundry," said Hippy solemnly, "I hope you never get caught in a
burning house in the night. If you are, the house and yourself will be a
heap of ashes in the cellar by the time you get awake."
"Listen to him, will you, Nora Wingate," cackled Emma Dean hoarsely, for
the chill of the mountain morning had gotten into her throat.
"For your information, Miss Dean, I will say that the only time my Nora
ever listens to her husband is when he talks in his sleep." A pained
expression appeared on Hippy's face when he said it.
"Go on wid ye," laughed Nora. "Ye know ye can't talk in your sleep
because your snores don't give ye a chance."
Grace put an end to the argument by announcing that breakfast was
served. The girls regarded Grace inquiringly when she informed them that
their late guest, the Mystery Man, had again vanished with his usual
mysteriousness.
"He hath folded his tent and stolen away," observed Emma Dean
dramatically.
"He didn't fold his tent, for he hadn't any tent to fold," differed
Hippy. "He folded his blankets and hiked for the tall timber. How far do
we ride to-day, Grace?"
"To Spring Brook. Wash, how far from here is the next camping place?"
questioned Grace, turning to the colored boy.
"Wall, Ah reckons it's 'bout er whoop an' er holler from heyeh."
"So far as that?" chuckled Hippy Wingate.
"It's terrible! I know I never shall be able to stand it to ride so
far," declared Emma, tilting her nose up, her head inclined over her
right shoulder, a characteristic pose for her when she thought she was
saying something smart. As usual, her remark brought a laugh.
"Emma Dean, your nose is the last word in neat impertinence," declared
Elfreda Briggs. "Were you a man, some one surely would flatten it for
you. Forgive me, dear. That was rude of me," apologized J. Elfreda.
"Never mind the apology. I am used to being abused by my companions,"
retorted Emma, her face a little redder than usual.
Grace laughingly interrupted the badinage by directing Washington to
begin packing. She said they must make an early start, not knowing how
far it was to their day's destination, but which, she believed, from a
perusal of her map, was all of twenty-five miles.
"The trails are no more than foot-paths and we can make no time, so
let's go," she urged.
It was an hour later when the party mounted and started away,
Washington bringing up the rear on a pack mule, industriously playing
his new harmonica. The going was slow and tedious and the Overlanders
were tired when they halted for a rest and luncheon shortly before noon.
A half hour's nap followed the luncheon, the party being "lulled" to
sleep by Washington's harmonica.
It was a discordant, insistent screeching of the harmonica that finally
awakened them.
"Stop that noise!" roared Hippy. "I'll--"
"What is it?" cried Grace, springing up, shaking her head to more
thoroughly awaken herself.
"Ah seen er man, Ah did," answered Washington. His eyes wore a
frightened expression and he was shifting and shuffling uneasily. "Ah
seen his face. He war a peekin' through the bushes right thar where yuh
be sleepin'," he informed them, nodding to Lieutenant Wingate.
"You were dreaming," scoffed Hippy.
"Ah wuz wide awake, Cap'n. Er fly er a bug bit me on de nose an' waked
me up. Ah seed de man den, an' when he seen I sawed him he run away."
"I hope you gave him an anesthetic before you 'sawed' him, Wash," said
Emma Dean, who had been listening eagerly to the conversation.
"Yes'm."
Hippy started towards the spot indicated by Wash.
"Wait! Don't trample down the bushes until I have had a look," begged
Grace, stepping forward. "We will look first."
Parting the bushes she peered in and pointed. Hippy saw a well-marked
trail where the bushes had been brushed aside, and here and there a
tender leaf-stem broken off.
Stooping over, the Overland girl scrutinized the ground, and, with a
finger, beckoned Hippy to kneel down.
"See that?" she demanded.
"What is it?" questioned the other girls in chorus. They had followed
Grace and Hippy and were eagerly peering over the heads of the two
kneeling Overlanders.
"Footprints of a pair of heavy boots," announced Hippy. "The impression
they have left in the moss is unmistakable. This looks as if he had
rested his gun-butt here," he added, laying a finger on another
depression in the moss.
"I do not think so," said Grace, after examining it critically. "I
should say that the man made that second impression with the toe of his
left boot. By looking at the impression of the right boot you will
observe that it sunk in deeper, meaning, probably, that he threw his
weight on the right foot and took a step forward with the left, only the
toe of which was on the ground as he leaned forward to peer into our
camp."
"'Ma'velous! Ma'velous, Sherlock!' How do you do it?" chortled Hippy.
"Elfreda, please fetch my revolver. I am going to follow out this trail
a little way. Perhaps I may discover something," said Grace.
Hippy said he would accompany her, but Grace shook her head.
"Please stay here and look out for the camp. If I need you I will shoot
three times."
"I wish you would not go out," urged Elfreda. "What is to be gained?
Nothing, and there may be much to lose."
"Grace has made up her mind to go, so you might as well save your
breath, J. Elfreda," said Anne.
"Some persons are so stubborn," murmured Emma.
Grace smiled and nodded, then parted the bushes and stepped in. She was
lost to their sight in a few seconds, moving on through the tangle of
bush and vine without causing a rustle that their listening ears could
hear.
"Fine, fine!" observed Miss Briggs. "We surely have made a most
excellent start."
"Cheer up. The worst is yet to come," reiterated Hippy. "Keep your ears
open. I'll be back in a moment."
Hippy ran to his tent, returning with his heavy army revolver strapped
to his waist.
"What are you going to do?" questioned Anne. "Grace said you were not to
follow her."
"I'm not going to. I have merely prepared myself in case she signals for
me. All hands keep quiet and listen. Stop that noise!" warned Hippy as
Wash struck a chord on his harmonica. "Nora, if he sounds another note,
take the infernal music box away from him. I--hark!"
A sharp report startled the Overland girls.
"That wasn't Grace's revolver," announced Lieutenant Wingate, leaning
forward in a listening attitude, but before the words had left his lips,
in fact, instantly following the first shot came a heavy report, a bang
that woke the mountain echoes.
"That's Grace! That's a service revolver," cried Hippy.
"They're at it!" exclaimed Elfreda, as three more shots in quick
succession, two of them from Grace's revolver, were fired.
"Run, Hippy!" cried Nora Wingate. "Shake your feet!"
"My knees are shaking already. Isn't that enough?" returned Hippy as he
plunged into the bushes going to Grace's assistance, but there was
nothing in his movements to indicate that his knees were shaking. Hippy
Wingate knew no fear, as befitted a man who had fought many winning
battles with the Germans high above the earth, but it amused him to
convey the impression that he was timid.