pon hot air because what he's selling
won't float on cold air."

Grace brought out blankets and a pneumatic pillow which she placed in a
heap near the fire.

"Make up your bed on the softest spot you can find, Mr. Long, though I
do not believe there is much choice," said Grace. Then, in a lower
voice: "I hope you may not find it necessary to shoot any more
mountaineers to-night, Mr. Long."

"Sh--h--h--h--h!" warned the Mystery Man. "I don't know what you're
talking about," he added in a louder tone, observing that Washington
Washington was standing close by, all eyes and ears.

Grace walked away laughing, Jeremiah Long observing her with twinkling
eyes, a quizzical smile on his face.

CHAPTER IV

FOOTPRINTS IN THE MOSS

Tom Gray had planned to make an early start next morning, so he was up
just before break of day, lighting the cook-fire that Washington had
laid for him. Wisps of smoke from the fire were wafted into Grace's
tent, awakening her instantly.

"Well, Tom, you thought you would steal a march on me, didn't you?" she
chided, as she came out unbraiding her hair.

"I hoped I might. That was why I said good-bye last night."

"You did not think for a moment that I would let you go away without my
getting up to see you off, did you?" she wondered. "No. You should have
known better than that."

"Now that you are here, I will speak what is in my mind. Watch yourself,
Grace. That affair last night disturbs me not a little, because it is
an indication of what you folks may have to contend with up here. The
Kentucky mountaineer is not a gentle animal. He is a man of almost
primitive instincts, and the worst of him is that he doesn't come out in
the open to settle a grudge, but, as a rule, settles it from ambush."

"You forget, Tom dear, that we girls are not tenderfeet, that we are
seasoned veterans of the world war and that the whistle of a bullet is
not a new nor a particularly terrifying sound to us. I hope you will not
worry about us. In three weeks you will be with us. By the way, when did
our Mystery Man leave?"

"When? Why--I--I didn't know--"

"You had not even discovered that he had gone?" chuckled Grace. "Oh,
Tom! There are his blankets within a yard of you, neatly folded, and a
slip of paper pinned to the top one, probably bidding us good-bye and
thanking us for our hospitality. Read it, please."

Tom did so and nodded.

"Just what you thought it was, Grace. You must be gifted with