climbed in
her wagon at the rear and stolen stealthily upon her from behind.
Their work had been distressingly thorough.

She was not greatly frightened, merely stunned and bewildered. What on
earth could be the meaning of such an act, was the question that kept
uppermost in her thoughts as she felt herself borne swiftly along
through the dripping forest.

Meantime, Hiram Hooker had looked back to watch Jerkline Jo's whites
round the curve. There were not many opportunities for looking back at
the girl that Hiram did not improve. He loved to watch Jo's expert
handling of the team in tight places. It made a picture to delight the
heart of any man. He saw the leaders come around, then the swings.
Next he saw the off pointer mare recrossing the chain and returning to
place. Then came the butt team and--an empty wagon.

For an instant or two Hiram gazed unbelievingly, then turned and set
his brake, calling to his team to whoa. Next moment he was running
back.

He sprang into Jo's empty wagon, set the brake, and stopped her team.
Then he was out by the tail end, running back along the road, calling
frantically.

On the left-hand side of the road yawned a chasm, five hundred feet in
depth. Had something happened? Had Jo fallen down this precipice?

As he ran he skirted the edge, shouting down. Only the pelting rain
and the swish of forest trees made a mocking answer. If for any reason
the girl had been obliged to leave the wagon, she would have stopped
her team. This was no place to allow a team to travel alone.

He was thunderstruck--scarce able to believe his senses. Back in the
road he trotted along, his blue eyes searching expertly in the mud for
signs of what had happened. But it seemed that the trampling of the
animals that were following Jo's wagon had obliterated every trace,
provided the girl had been afoot in the road. And she must have been
afoot there, or flown up into the sky!

Ah! He came to an abrupt halt. In the mud at the roadside was a
single footprint--the print of a man's shoe. Then on the rock wall on
the right-hand side of the road, and close to the footprint, was fresh
mud. On hands and knees Hiram climbed up the rocky slope, and at the
top found mud again. Buckthorn bushes grew close by. Some one had
brushed against them recently, for the raindrops had been shaken from
the leaves. In all the big-timber country of Mendocino County there
had been no surer trailer than Hira