d the
night, dark and without stars, as he wished to see it, rolled up, fold
after fold, covering and hiding everything. He looked a little while at
a breadth of inky sky showing through the leaves, and then, free from
trouble or fear, he fell asleep.

CHAPTER II. THE MYSTERIOUS HAND

Henry slept until a rosy light, filtering through the leaves, fell upon
his face. Then he sprang up, folded the blanket once more upon his back,
and looked about him. Nothing had come in the night to disturb him,
no enemy was near, and the morning sun was bright and beautiful. The
venison was exhausted, but he bathed his face in the brook and resumed
his journey, traveling with a long, swift stride that carried him at
great speed.

The boy was making for a definite point, one that he knew well, although
nearly all the rest of this wilderness was strange to him. The country
here was rougher than it usually is in the great valley to the west, and
as he advanced it became yet more broken, range after range of steep,
stony hills, with fertile but narrow little valleys between. He went
on without hesitation for at least two hours, and then stopping under a
great oak he uttered a long, whining cry, much like the howl of a wolf.

It was not a loud note, but it was singularly penetrating, carrying far
through the forest. A sound like an echo came back, but Henry knew that
instead of an echo it was a reply to his own signal. Then he advanced
boldly and swiftly and came to the edge of a snug little valley set deep
among rocks and trees like a bowl. He stopped behind the great trunk of
a beech, and looked into the valley with a smile of approval.

Four human figures were seated around a fire of smoldering coals that
gave forth no smoke. They appeared to be absorbed in some very pleasant
task, and a faint odor that came to Henry's nostrils filled him with
agreeable anticipations. He stepped forward boldly and called:

"Jim, save that piece for me!"

Long Jim Hart halted in mid-air the large slice of venison that he had
toasted on a stick. Paul Cotter sprang joyfully to his feet, Silent Tom
Ross merely looked up, but Shif'less Sol said:

"Thought Henry would be here in time for breakfast."

Henry walked down in the valley, and the shiftless one regarded him
keenly.

"I should judge, Henry Ware, that you've been hevin' a foot race," he
drawled.

"And why do you think that?" asked Henry.

"I kin see where the briars hev been raki