ile above him
the song of a cataract dropped down a tree-choked ravine. Just there the
drop came, and for a long space he could see the river lashing rock and
cliff with increasing fury as though it were seeking shelter from some
relentless pursuer in the dark thicket where it disappeared. Straight in
front of him another ledge lifted itself. Beyond that loomed a mountain
which stopped in mid-air and dropped sheer to the eye. Its crown was
bare and Hale knew that up there was a mountain farm, the refuge of a
man who had been involved in that terrible feud beyond Black Mountain
behind him. Five minutes later he was at the yawning mouth of the gap
and there lay before him a beautiful valley shut in tightly, for all the
eye could see, with mighty hills. It was the heaven-born site for the
unborn city of his dreams, and his eyes swept every curve of the valley
lovingly. The two forks of the river ran around it--he could follow
their course by the trees that lined the banks of each--curving within
a stone's throw of each other across the valley and then looping away
as from the neck of an ancient lute and, like its framework, coming
together again down the valley, where they surged together, slipped
through the hills and sped on with the song of a sweeping river. Up
that river could come the track of commerce, out the South Fork, too, it
could go, though it had to turn eastward: back through that gap it could
be traced north and west; and so none could come as heralds into those
hills but their footprints could be traced through that wild, rocky,
water-worn chasm. Hale drew breath and raised in his stirrups.

"It's a cinch," he said aloud. "It's a shame to take the money."

Yet nothing was in sight now but a valley farmhouse above the ford where
he must cross the river and one log cabin on the hill beyond. Still on
the other river was the only woollen mill in miles around; farther
up was the only grist mill, and near by was the only store, the only
blacksmith shop and the only hotel. That much of a start the gap had had
for three-quarters of a century--only from the south now a railroad
was already coming; from the east another was travelling like a wounded
snake and from the north still another creeped to meet them. Every road
must run through the gap and several had already run through it lines
of survey. The coal was at one end of the gap, and the iron ore at the
other, the cliffs between were limestone, and the other ele