Part 36 (1/2)

”'Thunder Mountain!' he cried. Then, half to himself: 'The trail drops down from Thunder Mountain--somewhere--into the Black Lake country, and then--over the Sangre de Cristo is the San Luis. _But how does he know that?_'

”'He knows a lot, he does!' said 'Red.'

”Then Haig was off, flinging back 'Thank you!' at the boy. But he took the precaution to confirm 'Red's' story at the post-office. Thompson himself had seen Sunnysides, still going like the wind. Tom Banks came in a little later with news of the outlaw well up the road toward Norton's, and Haig after him. So there's no doubt the way they've gone. But it's a losing game if Sunnysides can keep up the speed he was. .h.i.tting when he was last seen.”

”A losing game!” She, better than anybody else in the Park, knew what that meant. She rose slowly, and looked across the Park at Thunder Mountain, now lost among the clouds. No, not quite; for through a rift she was just able to make out the timber line on the mountain's jutting shoulder. Above that she knew the bleak rocks rose sheer to the bald head that was battered by tempests, seared by lightning, swept smooth by the winds that never ceased.

So this was the message! This was what Thunder Mountain had said to her! This was the answer to her questions! Day after day she had studied it, when storms gathered on that frowning head, when vapors made a smudge there in the midst of the glittering a.s.semblage of the peaks, and when, for a meager hour, once in a while, the summit stood clear in the suns.h.i.+ne, as if the tortured mountain, condemned to everlasting punishment, had been given a brief reprieve.

Now, at last, she understood. Somewhere on that evil trail was Philip.

He could never cross Thunder Mountain! Sunnysides might, perhaps; but he--he had tried, and failed. Others had tried, and--died for it. But he would try again; she knew how desperately he would throw himself upon that fatal head. And then? It was the end!

But she must know. She could not stay there.

She started down the hill, running; and Smythe followed her in amazement and alarm. He did not like that last look on her face.

”Wait!” he called, in a voice that for once rang with authority.

She stopped, and let him overtake her.

”What are you doing?” he demanded.

”I'm going to Murray's--for news,” she answered.

”No!” he cried. ”That's madness.”

”It's necessary,” she rejoined. ”And there's no danger.”

”How do you know?”

”I met Mrs. Murray once at the post-office. She talked to me about Murray's ranch--it's in a gulch just below timber line. She asked me to come and visit her--and I'm going.”

”Then I'll go with you!” retorted Smythe.

She looked at him intently, and smiled in a way that puzzled and disturbed him. But before he could make any considerable effort to a.n.a.lyze it, the smile had fled, and he was following Marion helplessly down the hill.

At the steps of the veranda she paused, and waited for him.

”I'll be out in a minute,” she said; and left him seating himself uneasily, his perplexity plainly showing in his face.

Marion opened the door, and faltered on the threshold. Seth was there with Claire; and she must face them both.

”Mr. Smythe wants me to go for a ride with him,” she said, advancing smilingly. ”We can start to-morrow on the shooting trip, can't we, Cousin Seth?”

She had not often called him ”Cousin Seth” of late; and he was delighted.

”Well,” he said reflectively, ”I'd rather planned starting to-day, but if to-morrow suits you better it's all right, Marion. Go along with your young man!”

Claire was studying her anxiously, and Marion hastened to disarm her.