ng, because they had been too high
up to be accessible to the lumbermen who had ravaged the lower levels.
Though the long summer twilight of the North still lighted the tops of
the trees, the two men rode in impenetrable darkness, leaving the
horses to pick their own canny footing up the trail.

"Did anybody see Rogers in that crowd?" Jeffrey asked as they rode
along. "You know, the man that was in French Village this summer."

"I don't know," Stocking answered. "You see they came up to the end of
the rails, at Grafton, on a handcar. And then they scattered. Nobody's
sure that he's seen any of 'em since. But they must be in the hills
somewhere. And Rafe Gadbeau's with 'em. You can bet on that. That's
all we've got to go on. But it may be a-plenty."

"It's enough to set us on the move, anyway," said Jeffrey. "They have
no business in the hills. They're bound to be up to mischief of some
sort. And there's just one big mischief that they can do. Can we make
Bald Mountain before daylight?"

"Oh, certainly; that'll be easy. We'll get a little light when we're
through this belt of heavy woods and then we can push along. We ought
to get up there by two o'clock. It ain't light till near five. That'll
give us a little sleep, if we feel like it."

True to Stocking's calculation they came out upon the rocky, thinly
grassed knobs of Bald Mountain shortly before two o'clock. It was a
soft, hazy night with no moon. There was rain in the air somewhere,
for there was no dew; but it might be on the other side of the divide
or it might be miles below on the lowlands.

Others of the men of the hills were no doubt in the vicinity of the
mountain, or were heading toward here. For the word of the menace had
gone through the hills that day, and men would decide, as Jeffrey had
done, that the danger would come from this direction. But they had not
heard anything to show the presence of others, nor did they care to
give any signals of their own whereabouts.

As for those others, the possible enemy, who had left the railroad
that morning and had scattered into the hills, if their purpose was
the one that men feared, they, too, would be near here. But it was
useless to look for them in the dark: neither was anything to be
feared from them before morning. Men do not start forest fires in the
night. There is little wind. A fire would probably die out of itself.
And the first blaze would rouse the whole country.

The two hobbled their horse