"While you was puttin' the finishin' touches on this yere camp, I come acrost a heap o' stuns, that somehow the wind had swept bare. There was a big drift in front of it w'ich kep' us from seein' it afore; it was built up in the open w'ere there want no trees, an' in our lumberin' operations we want lookin' that-a-way. I came acrost a bottle by chance an'--" "Well, for God's sake, old man," cried Armstrong impatiently, "what did you find in it, anything?" "This," answered Kirkby, carefully producing a folded scrap of paper from his leather vest. Armstrong fell on it ravenously, and as Maitland bent over him they both read these words by the fire light. "_Miss Enid Maitland, whose foot is so badly crushed as to prevent her traveling, is safe in a cabin at the head of this canon. I put this notice here to reassure any who may be seeking her as to her welfare. Follow the stream up to its source._" _Wm. Berkeley Newbold._ "Thank God!" exclaimed Robert Maitland. "You called me a damn fool, Kirkby," said Armstrong, his eyes gleaming. "What do you think of it now?" "It's the damn fool, I find," said Kirkby sapiently, "that gener'ly gits there. Providence seems to be a-watchin' over 'em." "You said you chanced on this paper, Jack," continued Maitland, "it looks to me like the deliberate intention of Almighty God." "I reckon so," answered the other simply. "You see He's got to look after all the damn fools on earth to keep 'em from doin' too much damage to theirselves an' to others in this yere crooked trail of a world." "Let us start now," urged Armstrong. "Tain't possible," said the old man, taking another puff at his pipe, and only a glistening of the eye betrayed the joy that he felt; otherwise his phlegmatic calm was unbroken, his demeanor just as undisturbed as it always was. "We'd jest throw away our lives a wanderin' round these yere mountains in the dark, we've got to have light an' clear weather. Ef it should be snowin' in the mornin' we'd have to wait until it cleared." "I won't wait a minute," cried Armstrong. "At daybreak, weather or no weather, I start." "What's your hurry, Jim?" continued Kirkby calmly. "The gal's safe, one day more or less ain't goin' to make no difference." "She's with another man," answered Armstrong quickly. "Do you know this Newbold?" asked Maitland, looking at the note again. "No, not personally, but I have heard of him." "I know him," answered Kirkby quickly, "an' you've seed him too, Bob; he's the fellow that shot his wife, that married Louise Rosser." "That man!" "The very same." "You say you never saw him, Jim?" asked Maitland. "I repeat I never met him," said Armstrong, flushing suddenly, "but I knew his wife." "Yes, you did that--" drawled the old mountaineer. "What do you mean?" flashed Armstrong. "I mean that you knowed her, that's all," answered the old man with an innocent air that was almost childlike.