Jim Whitley, enraged at Frank's failure to rescue the papers held by
Dick, and alarmed by the latter's letter telling him of young Goodrich's
confession, had come into the wild backwoods district to await
developments. He was more determined now than ever, to gain possession
of the evidence of his crime, and in his heart was a fast-growing
desire to silence, once for all, the man whose steady purpose and
integrity was such an obstacle in his life. But he could see no way
to accomplish his purpose without great danger to himself; and with
the memory of the gray eyes that had looked so calmly along the shining
revolvers that night in the printing office, was a wholesome respect
for the determined character of the man who had coolly proposed to die
with him if he did not grant his demands. He feared that should Dick
find Amy and learn the truth, he would risk his own life rather than
permit him to go unpunished, and so he resolved to bury himself in the
mountains until chance should reveal a safe way out of the difficulty,
or time change the situation.
The afternoon of the day following his adventure in the little valley,
Whitley sat on the porch of the post office and store kept by his host,
telling his experience to a group of loafers, when the long mountaineer
called Jake, rode up to the blacksmith shop across the street. Leaving
his mule to be shod, the native joined the circle just in time to hear
the latter part of Whitley's story.
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