CHAPTER X
NO-MAN'S COUNTRY
The corporal lingered by the smoking embers, gazing with a queer, ruminative look in his eyes towards the spot where quaking branches cut off his last sight of the departing travelers. Behind him he could hear the faint sputter and hiss of live fire still gnawing under the cabin timbers. A chorus of shrill, thin pipings sounded from the dimness of the woods, and a band of chickadees wheeled forth in elfin flight, whisked past his face, and vanished across the clearing. He stirred abruptly at the breaking of his thoughts, and turned for a final scrutiny of the ground about him.
For more than an hour he ranged back and forth in the misty dawn, searching for any small clew or minutiæ of fact that might in some way throw light upon last night's grewsome mysteries. What had actually happened in those few intense moments before the prisoners were killed? What was the bell that rang? Who had barred the door and fired the shots, and dropped a discharged pistol on the floor, and departed afterwards, noiseless and unseen, with no human footprint left outside? How was it all accomplished? He did not know. And an exhaustive researching in the daylight still left him at his wit's end, without one tangible hint to suggest the explanation of an inexplicable business. He prowled with nervous energy about the clearing and through the neighboring strip of forest, and his sharp vision missed nothing that mortal eyes could see. But the riddle of the tragic visitation remained inviolate. It was as though he dealt with factors and forces that hovered beyond the scope of human sight and comprehension.
Finishing his profitless investigations at last, he stood irresolute for a space, frowning, not quite decided what he ought to do next. His future plans were as yet indefinite. He was assigned on roving patrol, cast upon his own resources, dependent in all matters upon his own judgment. Before he looked upon civilized places again he must hold some sort of accounting with the elusive outlaw, Crill. But in this thousand-mile stretch of mountain wilderness, the game of hide-and-seek might drag along through weeks and months. Meanwhile, he knew he would find no peace of mind until he had gained some inkling of truth concerning Alison Rayne.
Who was she? What possible errand could have brought her alone into this shut-in region of silence? What concern had she in the affairs of Mudgett and the dark-visaged stranger, or of the other intruders who prowled somewhere behind the range? Was it her voice he had heard last night in the cabin? He drew a sharp breath, and slowly shook his head. The questions clamored unanswered. He knew no more about the girl than she had allowed him to read in her level-gazing eyes.
There remained one possibility: if the fresh snow lasted long enough he at least could find the place she came from. The sought-for information might possibly be picked up at the end of the back trail. In a moment he made his decision. Other matters might wait; meanwhile he would try to settle definitely, one way or another, the disturbing enigma that had haunted his thoughts since his first meeting with Alison Rayne.
No longer hesitating, he shouldered his pack and picked up his carbine. He cast a final glance towards the pile of blackened litter where the cabin had stood, and then, with the relieved breath of one who quits a place of evil, he swung on his heel and started northward through the silent forest.
He struck the line of familiar little footprints in the runway where he had first discovered them the evening before. This time, however, he took the trail that approached the cabin clearing, and let the heel marks point his direction of travel. Treading the reversed pathway, he found himself branching to the right, and in a few moments had reached the edge of the brook.
The girl had followed the stream down from the north, walking in the middle of the frozen watercourse. But at this point she had struck off at a right angle through the timber, making straight for the clearing. Across the way an old, lightning-blasted sugar pine towered high above the spruces. This tree would serve as an unmistakable landmark, even in the darkness. By the abruptness of the trail's turning, it looked very much as though the girl knew where she was going when she left the stream here to shape a direct course for the cabin. Dexter paused for a moment to examine the ground, and then, with a half nod of conviction, he continued on his way.