Page:Hugh Pendexter--The young timber-cruisers.djvu/157

 caught the summit breeze he could see nothing but dark green woodlands stretching to the horizon. The breeze continually rustled the bare branches of the maple and beech, for as yet the belated season had allowed but a few leaves to gladden the deciduous trees, and ever sang gently through the boughs of the evergreens. There was no trace of human habitation, not even a solitary camp, and it seemed as if the three must be alone, surrounded by primeval solitude. And yet somewhere in the northwest was a desperate man, possibly more than one, intent on an evil purpose.

As these thoughts raced through Stanley’s mind and as his nerves responded to the suggestion he found himself becoming timid. The danger crept nearer until the immediate boundaries of their course impressed him as containing a hidden foe. A squirrel, suddenly scolding the passersby, gave a prickly sensation to his skin and he started involuntarily.

Abner read his fears and quietly drawled, “Don’t git scared. We’ve got plenty of leeway. Once we reach the tap of the ridge we’ll swing due north. That’s Jim over there.” And he pointed to the rounded top of a distant mountain, masked in the dark verdure of spruce and pine.