“My, I’m glad I’m not there!” exclaimed Amy fervently; “I always say that,” she added.

“A hundred and eleven day before yesterday, Jack Pollock says,” remarked Bob.

So at last they gained the long ridge leading toward the mill and saw a hundred feet away the mill road, and the forks where their own wagon trail joined it.

At this point they again entered the forest, screened by young growth and a thicket of alders.

“Look there,” Amy pointed out.  “See that dogwood, up by the yellow pine.  It’s the most splendiferous we’ve seen yet.  Wait a minute.  I’m going to get a branch of it for Mr. Welton’s office.  I don’t believe anybody ever picks anything for him.”

“Let me—­” began Bob; but she was already gone, calling back over her shoulder.

“No; this is my treat!”

The men stopped in the wagon trail to wait for her.  Bob watched with distinct pleasure her lithe, active figure making its way through the tangle of underbrush, finally emerging into the clear and climbing with swift, sure movements to the little elevation on which grew the beautiful, pink-leaved dogwoods.  She turned when she had gained the level of the yellow pine, to wave her hand at her companions.  Even at the distance, Bob could make out the flush of her cheeks and divine the delighted sparkle of her eyes.

But as she turned, her gesture was arrested in midair, and almost instantly she uttered a piercing scream.  Bob had time to take a half step forward.  Then a heavy blow on the back of his neck threw him forward.  He stumbled and fell on his face.  As he left his feet, the crash of two revolver shots in quick succession rang in his ears.

XXXIII

Oldham’s cold rage carried him to the railroad and into his berth.  Then, with the regular beat and throb of the carwheels over the sleepers, other considerations forced themselves upon him.  Consequences demanded recognition.

The land agent had not for many years permitted himself to act on impulse.  Therefore this one lapse from habit alarmed him vaguely by the mere fact that it was a lapse from habit.  He distrusted himself in an unaccustomed environment of the emotions.

But superinduced on this formless uneasiness were graver considerations.  He could not but admit to himself that he had by his expressed order placed himself to some extent in Saleratus Bill’s power.  He did not for a moment doubt the gun-man’s loyal intentions.  As long as things went well he would do his best by his employer—­if merely to gain the reward promised him only on fulfillment of his task.  But it is not easy to commit a murder undetected.  And if detected, Oldham had no illusions as to Saleratus Bill.  The gun-man, would promptly shelter himself behind his principal.