when she struck the ground far below.
They paused at the verge of the crag, and talked in eager, excited
tones. They did not see the boy, as he sat cowering close to the cliff
on the ledge below.

Ike listened in great trepidation to what they were saying; he
experienced infinite surprise when presently one of them mentioned Grig
Beemy's name.

[Illustration: TOGETHER THEY WENT OVER THE CLIFF]

So they knew who had stolen the horse! It was little consolation to Ike,
with his mare lying dead at the foot of the cliff, to reflect that if he
had had the courage to face the emergency, and rely upon his innocence,
his story would only have confirmed their knowledge of the facts.

Although the master of the horse did not know the thief "from Adam,"
Beemy had been seen with the animal and recognized by others, who,
accompanying the sheriff and the owner, had traced him for two days
through many wily doublings in the mountain fastnesses.

They now concluded to press on to Beemy's house. Ike knew they would
find him there waiting for Jube and the horse. Beemy had feared that he
would be followed, and this was the reason that he had desired to rid
himself of the animal for a day and night, until he could make sure and
feel more secure.

As the horsemen swept round the curve, Ike remembered how close was the
road to the cliff. If he had only given the mare her head, she would
have carried him safely around it. But there she lay dead, way down in
Poor Valley, and he had lost all he owned in the world.

Night had come, and in the dense darkness he did not dare to move. Only
a step away was the edge of the precipice, over which the mare had
slipped, and he could not tell how dangerous was the bluff he must climb
to regain the summit. He felt he must lie here till dawn.

He was badly jarred by his fall. Time dragged by wearily, and his
bruises pained him. He knew at length that all the world slept,--all but
himself and some distant ravening wolf, whose fierce howl ever and anon
set the mists to shivering in Poor Valley where he prowled. This
blood-curdling sound and his bitter thoughts were but sorry company.

After a long time he fell asleep. Fortunately, he did not stir. When he
regained consciousness and a sense of danger, he found still around him
that dense white vapor, through which the pale, drear day was slowly
dawning. Above his head was swinging in the mist a cluster of
fox-grapes, with the rime upon them, and highe