The Scouts of the Valley
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saw the bushes moving slightly three or four hundred yards away.
"There comes Tom," he said, after a single comprehensive glance,
"and he's alone."
Tom Ross was also a dejected figure. He looked at the two on the
hill, and, seeing that the man for whom they were searching was
not with them, became more dejected than before.
"Paul's our last chance," he said, as he joined them. He's
gen'rally a lucky boy, an' mebbe it will be so with him to-day."
I hope so," said Henry fervently. " He ought to be along in a
few minutes."
They waited patiently, although they really had no belief that
Paul would bring in the missing man, but Paul was late. The noon
hour was well past. Henry took a glance at the sun. Noon was
gone at least a half hour, and he stirred uneasily.
"Paul couldn't get lost in broad daylight," he said.
"No," said Shif'less Sol, "he couldn't get lost!"
Henry noticed his emphasis on the word "lost," and a sudden fear
sprang up in his heart. Some power had taken away Long Jim;
could the same power have seized Paul? It was a premonition, and
he paled under his brown, turning away lest the others see his
face. All three now examined the whole circle of the horizon for
a sight of moving bushes that would tell of the boy's coming.
The forest told nothing. The sun blazed brightly over
everything, and Paul, like Long Jim, did not come. He was an
hour past due, and the three, oppressed already by Long jim's
disappearance, were convinced that he would not return. But they
gave him a half hour longer. Then Henry said:
"We must hunt for him, but we must not separate. Whatever
happens we three must stay together."
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&n
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