But can't I get to the corners from here?"
"Sure ye kin. Jes' foller on down the branch 'bout three mile till ye
come out on the big road; hit'll take ye straight ter th' ford below
ol' Ball whar' the lone tree is. Simpson's is 'bout half a quarter on
yon side the creek."
The man thanked her gruffly, and turning his horse, started away.
"Be you'ns the feller what's stoppin' at Sim's ter hunt?" she called
after him.
"Yes, I'm the man," he answered, "Good-evening." And he rode into the
bushes.
Catching the oldest urchin by the arm, the woman gave him a vigorous
cuff on the side of the head and then whispered a few words in his
attentive ear. The lad started off down the opposite side of the ravine
at a run, bending low and dodging here and there, unseen by the
stranger.
The hunter pushed on his way down the narrow valley as fast as he could
go, for he had no time to spare if he would reach his stopping-place
before night, and he knew that there was small chance of finding the
way back after dark; but his course was so rough and obstructed by
heavy undergrowth, fallen trees and boulders, that his progress was
slow and the shadow of the mountain was over the trail while he was
still a mile from the road at the end of the ravine. As he looked
anxiously ahead, hoping every moment to see the broader valley where
the road lay, he caught a glimpse of two men coming toward him, one
behind the other, winding in and out through the low timber.
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