LITMIR.BIZ

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      “I’m not hankerin’ to roam ‘roun jest now all by myself,” said the shiftless one, with an uneasy laugh.

      The three hunted all that afternoon for Paul. Once they saw trace of footsteps, apparently his, in some soft earth, but they were quickly, lost on hard ground, and after that there was nothing. They stopped shortly before sunset at the edge of a narrow but deep creek.

      “What do you think of it, Henry?” asked Shif’less Sol.

      “I don’t know what to think,” replied the youth, “but it seems to me that whatever took away Jim has taken away Paul, also.”

      “Looks like it,” said Sol, “an’ I guess it follers that we’re in the same kind o’ danger.”

      “We three of us could put up a good fight,” said Henry, “and I propose that we don’t go back to that camp, but spend the night here.”

      “Yes, an’ watch good,” said Tom Ross.

      Their new camp was made quickly in silence, merely the grass under the low boughs of a tree. Their supper was a little venison, and then they watched the coming of the darkness. It was a heavy hour for the three. Long Jim was gone, and then Paul-Paul, the youngest, and, in a way, the pet of the little band.

      “Ef we could only know how it happened,” whispered Shif’less Sol, “then we might rise up an’ fight the danger an’ git Paul an’ Jim back. But you can’t shoot at somethin’ you don’t see or hear. In all them fights o’ ours, on the Ohio an’ Mississippi we knowed what wuz ag’inst us, but here we don’t know nothin’.”

      “It is true, Sol,” sighed Henry. “We were making such big plans, too, and before we can even start our force is cut nearly in half. To-morrow we’ll begin the hunt again. We’ll never desert Paul and Jim, so long as we don’t know they’re dead.”

      “It’s my watch,” said Tom. “You two sleep. We’ve got to keep our strength.”

      Henry and the shiftless one acquiesced, and seeking the softest spots under the tree sat down. Tom Ross took his place about ten feet in front of them, sitting on the ground, with his hands clasped around his knees, and his rifle resting on his arm. Henry watched him idly for a little while, thinking all the time of his lost comrades. The night promised to be dark, a good thing for them, as the need of hiding was too evident.

      Shif’less Sol soon fell asleep, as Henry, only three feet away, knew by his soft and regular breathing, but the boy himself was still wide-eyed.

      The darkness seemed to sink down like a great blanket dropping slowly, and the area of Henry’s vision narrowed to a small circle. Within this area the distinctive object was the figure of Tom Ross, sitting with his rifle across his knees. Tom had an infinite capacity for immobility. Henry had never seen another man, not even an Indian, who could remain so long in one position contented and happy. He believed that the silent one could sit as he was all night.

      His surmise about Tom began to have a kind of fascination for him. Would he remain absolutely still? He would certainly shift an arm or a leg. Henry’s interest in the question kept him awake. He turned silently on the other side, but, no matter how intently he studied the sitting figure of his comrade, he could not see it stir. He did not know how long he had been awake, trying thus to decide a question that should be of no importance at such a time. Although unable to sleep, he fell into a dreamy condition, and continued vaguely to watch the rigid and silent sentinel.

      He suddenly saw Tom stir, and he came from his state of languor. The exciting question was solved at last. The man would not sit all night absolutely immovable. There could be no doubt of the fact that he had raised an arm, and that his figure had straightened. Then he stood up, full height, remained motionless for perhaps ten seconds, and then suddenly glided away among the bushes.

      Henry knew what this meant. Tom had heard something moving in the thickets, and, like a good sentinel, he had gone to investigate. A rabbit, doubtless, or perhaps a sneaking raccoon. Henry rose to a sitting position, and drew his own rifle across his knees. He would watch while Tom was gone, and then lie would sink quietly back, not letting his comrade know that lie had taken his place.

      The faintest of winds began to stir among the thickets. Light clouds drifted before the moon. Henry, sitting with his rifle across his knees, and Shif’less Sol, asleep in the shadows, were invisible, but Henry saw beyond the circle of darkness that enveloped them into the grayish light that fell over the bushes. He marked the particular point at which he expected Tom Ross to appear, a slight opening that held out invitation for the passage of a man.

      He waited a long time, ten minutes, twenty, a half hour, and the sentinel did not return. Henry came abruptly out of his dreamy state. He felt with all the terrible thrill of certainty that what happened to Long Jim and Paul had happened also to Silent Tom Ross. He stood erect, a tense, tall figure, alarmed, but not afraid. His eyes searched the thickets, but saw nothing. The slight movement of the bushes was made by the wind, and no other sound reached his ears.

      But he might be mistaken after all! The most convincing premonitions were sometimes wrong! He would give Tom ten minutes more, and he sank down in a crouching position, where he would offer the least target for the eye.

      The appointed time passed, and neither sight nor sound revealed any sign of Tom Ross. Then Henry awakened Shif’less Sol, and whispered to him all that he had seen.

      “Whatever took Jim and Paul has took him,” whispered the shiftless one at once.

      Henry nodded.

      “An’ we’re bound to look for him right now,” continued Shif’less Sol.

      “Yes,” said Henry, “but we must stay together. If we follow the others, Sol, we must follow ‘em together.”

      “It would be safer,” said Sol. “I’ve an idee that we won’t find Tom, an’ I want to tell you, Henry, this thing is gittin’ on my nerves.”

      It was certainly on Henry’s, also, but without reply he led the way into the bushes, and they sought long and well for Silent Tom, keeping at the same time a thorough watch for any danger that might molest themselves. But no danger showed, nor did they find Tom or his trail. He, too, had vanished into nothingness, and Henry and Sol, despite their mental strength, felt cold shivers. They came back at last, far toward morning, to the bank of the creek. It was here as elsewhere a narrow but deep stream flowing between banks so densely wooded that they were almost like walls.

      “It will be daylight soon,” said Shif’less Sol, “an’ I think we’d better lay low in thicket an’ watch. It looks ez ef we couldn’t find anything, so we’d better wait an’ see what will find us.”

      “It looks like the best plan to me,” said Henry, “but I think we might first hunt a while on the other side of the creek. We haven’t looked any over there.”

      “That’s so,” replied Shif’less Sol, “but the water is at least seven feet deep here, an’ we don’t want to make any splash swimmin’. Suppose you go up stream, an’ I go down, an’ the one that finds a ford first kin give a signal. One uv us ought to strike shallow water in three or four hundred yards.”

      Henry followed the current toward the south, while Sol moved up the stream. The boy went cautiously through the dense foliage, and the creek soon grew wider and shallower. At a distance of about three hundred yards lie came to a point where it could be waded easily. Then he uttered the low cry that was their signal, and went back to meet Shif’less Sol. He reached the exact point at which they had parted, and waited. The shiftless one did not come. The last of his comrades was gone, and he was alone in the forest.

      CHAPTER III. THE HUT ON THE ISLET

      Henry Ware waited at least a quarter of an hour by the creek on the exact spot at which he and Solomon Hyde, called the shiftless one, had parted, but he knew all the while that his last comrade was not coming. The same powerful and mysterious hand that swept the others away had taken him, the wary and cunning Shif’less Sol, master of forest lore and with all the five senses developed to the highest pitch. Yet his powers had availed him nothing,

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