e Colonel would then give a
diagnosis as suggested to him by a night of discomfort. "Well, well!
You must feel right bad, John! What you reckon I'd better give you?" The
Colonel would then name some nostrum, also decided upon during the long
night. Old Doctor Meal would open his saddle-bags and mix it, along with
a toddy to make it palatable; then he would build a toddy for himself,
and sit down to talk. Of course, the Colonel swore by him!

Nancy had long since been brought over to the big house, because neither
the Colonel nor Aunt Timmie would consent to her going home--both
through purely different motives. It meant but one more addition to the
Colonel's eleemosynary institution (as Ann had acquired the habit of
calling Arden) and gave Doctor Stone an additional reason for making his
daily visits: thirty minutes at Mesmie's bedside, and anywhere from one
to three hours walking beneath the trees with his older patient.

But in other directions matters were not so hopeful. For a fortnight
Jess and his bloodhound had grimly searched the mountains. He felt the
necessity of raising a posse, but the Colonel would have none of that;
no others besides themselves and the trusted sheriff, he swore, must
share the story, lest it be bandied from tongue to tongue and eventually
distorted--too many characters, he said, were sacrificed every Saturday
night by those gods who whittled upon their thrones in front of the
village store to take any chances. So Jess had searched alone and in
vain.

Brent, working at the survey with an ardor that might have been inspired
by the example of Dale, had each evening come home by way of the partly
rebuilt cabin, hoping--praying--to get a glimpse of the outlaw. Nor had
the Colonel remained passive, but his activities progressed on the back
of a horse. There had been one other watcher of whom neither of them
knew.

This particular morning the engineer was in his room, plotting out an
accumulation of field notes. By him, and bending over the large drawing
board with as deep, though not as accurate, an interest, the Colonel
stood. Not infrequently now did the old gentleman come up to watch this
railroad grow upon paper, and talk as the other worked. They had been
speculating on the whereabouts of Tusk, and Brent was supporting Jess'
theory that he had fled into Virginia; but it was a most unpleasant
subject to them both and the Colonel exclaimed:

"I understand Tom has accepted my price!"

"