With a few blows of his hatchet he cut the copper retort to ribbons and knocked the heads out of the barrels. “Now they can have it,” he cried with a chuckle of satisfaction.
Scott was already halfway out of the tunnel. As soon as he emerged on the open trail he saw Hopwood coming, exhausted but determined.
“What is going on, Hopwood?” he called anxiously.
“They’re at it,” Hopwood panted as he sank on a log.
“What started it?” Scott asked.
“The boy from the logging camp reported that you had gone over the mountain,” Hopwood gasped. “And Foster shot Vic’s mother in cold blood.”
Scott was horror struck. “Why, that is what Sewall predicted,” he said, “but I didn’t believe it possible.”
“It was murder,” Hopwood replied coldly.
“Jarred isn’t hurt, is he?” Scott persisted.
Hopwood’s answer was so low that Scott had to lean over him to hear it at all. A look of keen disappointment passed over Scott’s face.