They came to the cabin on Trilley Ridge after dark, Jeff and Pete
walking side by side and Barr silent behind them. Jeff balanced the pack
on his shoulders and was glad he had it there. It was an old friend and
had always been a true one. He had been in trouble many times while it
was on his shoulders, but he had never stayed in trouble.
As they walked he tried to pinpoint directions, but because of the
darkness he could not do so. They had left the road for a path so faint
that the casual traveler would not even see it as he passed. There was
another path, and still another, and all of it was country that the hill
men knew well but that Jeff did not know at all. When they finally
reached the cabin, he was sure only that it was north of the road. But
it would not have been an unpleasant journey if Pete had not been
walking with him.
Found out, Pete had retreated sullenly into himself and Jeff again
thought of an animal. But Pete was no ordinary savage thing that might
attack because it was hungry or seeking a fight. He planned, and hidden
behind his weak blue eyes was a crafty brain. Jeff knew that Pete's
only thought revolved around ways to kill him, and it was a cold thing
to know.