kem back hyar ter tell ye," the doughty deliverer began, with an air
of great importance, and magnifying his office with an extreme relish,
"that I can't go an' tell Pete 'bout'n the rope till I hev done kem back
from the mill. I hev got old Sorrel hitched out hyar a piece, with a bag
o' corn on his back, what I hev ter git ground at the mill. My mother
air a-settin' at home now a-waitin' fur that thar corn-meal ter bake
dodgers with. An' I hev got a dime ter pay at the mill; it war lent ter
my dad las' week. An' I'm afeard ter walk about much with this hyar
dime; I mought lose it, ye know. An' I can't go home 'thout the meal;
I'll ketch it ef I do. But I'll tell Pete arter I git back from the
mill."

"The mill!" echoed Ethan, aghast. "What air ye doin' on this side o' the
mounting, ef ye air a-goin' ter the mill? This ain't the way ter the
mill."

"I kem over hyar," said the little boy, still with much importance of
manner, notwithstanding a slight suggestion of embarrassment on his
freckled face, "ter see 'bout'n a trap that I hev sot fur squir'ls. I'll
see 'bout my trap, an' then I hev ter go ter the mill, 'kase my mother
air a-settin' in our house now a-waitin' fur meal ter bake corn-dodgers.
Then I'll tell Pete whar ye air, an' what ye said 'bout'n the rope. Ye
must jes' wait fur me hyar."

Poor Ethan could do nothing else.

As the echo of the boy's shambling step died in the distance, a
redoubled sense of loneliness fell upon Ethan Tynes. But he endeavored
to solace himself with the reflection that the important mission to the
squirrel-trap and the errand to the mill could not last forever, and
before a great while Peter Birt and his rope would be upon the crag.

This idea buoyed him up as the hours crept slowly by. Now and then he
lifted his head and listened with painful intentness. He felt stiff in
every muscle, and yet he had a dread of making an effort to change his
constrained position. He might lose control of his rigid limbs, and fall
into those dread depths beneath.

His patience at last began to give way. His heart was sinking. His
messenger had been even more dilatory than he was prepared to expect.
Why did not Pete come? Was it possible that George had forgotten to tell
of his danger?

The sun was going down, leaving a great glory of gold and crimson clouds
and an opaline haze upon the purple mountains. The last rays fell on the
bronze feathers of the turkey still lying tied to the broken vine