"Well, I wisht--now hain't that the truth! Well, I'm a-botherin' of ye, honey. You and Nath wants to go to work. So go ahead. Yore pap he'll break his word, and 'en the goin'll be as smooth as ile. He--honey, ef here don't come pore old Grandpap Bill Singleton, the Prophet! How d'ye come on this fine mornin', Bill Singleton?" The aged mountaineer's lips wore a smile, but there was worry in his eyes. He limped up to the trio. "Ef ever I've seed a drier summer and fall," he began, "I don't know when it was. Why, what'm I a-talkin' about? I don't keer nothin' about the weather now; what I want to know now, Jane Wolfe, is what has become o' pore little Tot?" Granny Wolfe straightened. "Hain't she at Johnsville, Bill?" "She 'cided to come back wi' her pap yeste'day," said Grandpap Singleton, "and he hain't seed her--nor none of us has--sence he outrun her when he heerd the shootin'. Alex he's s'arched the woods all down thar below, and mighty nigh it everywhar else, and he never found no sign of her at all. Little Buck, please try to find her!" "Perhaps she went back to the Masons--though it's not likely that she'd run from a fight that her own people were mixed up in," young Wolfe muttered. "We've a 'phone at the camp. Maybe I'd better go down there and 'phone the Masons." The old mountain man's eyes flitted to the silent locomotive. "Ef ye go on the ingyne, I'd like to go wi' ye," he said. "I hain't never--heh!--rid on no train nor nothin' like it." "All right," nodded Wolfe. "Want to go with us, grammaw?" "Shore," eagerly; "I hain't never rid on no train neither." [Illustration] Wolfe helped the two old people to the cab seats, uncoupled the locomotive, sprang aboard and loosed the brakes. They were off for the now deserted camp. The Masons hadn't seen Tot Singleton since the morning of the day before! Wolfe frowned hard at the tidings. After a few minutes spent in talking with the colonel, he hastened back to the locomotive, which was now trembling under a fair head of steam. He delivered his message to Grandpap Singleton, and reached for the throttle-lever. "Honey," smiled Granny Wolfe, seeming somehow like a guilty child, "ef you won't git mad at me--I know whar Tot is! As we left the aidge o' the basin, I seed her a-peepin' down at us from the laurels on the Lost Trail side! I know I'd orter told ye, honey; but I hadn't never rid on no train afore, and I--I was jest mighty nigh it a-dyin' to ride!" "That's all right, grammaw," said her grandson. "I wonder why she didn't go to her father's?" Neither of his hearers could answer the question. He opened the throttle, and a sharp staccato of exhaust shattered the woodland peace.