Certainly that did not sound like the talk of a crazy man, but Scott did not question him.
“Is there anything I can do for you, Hopwood?”
“Oh, no!” Hopwood exclaimed. “I’m all right. Won’t you stay and have supper with me?” he asked bashfully.
“I wish I could,” Scott said, “but there are some things I have to attend to down at the camp. I hope I can some day. This is a beautiful place.”
Hopwood came to the door with him, and they stood for a moment looking in silence at the beautiful scene before them, or rather below them.
Jones’ Knob was the highest peak in that section, and they looked down upon a number of smaller mountains. The sun, setting rapidly over the western ridge, sent ever changing shadows over the eastern slopes. The evening mists were beginning to fill the valleys like a rising tide, and even as they watched one of the lower peaks was submerged in the sea of white.
Scott roused himself. “It will be dark in the valley before I get down there if I don’t hurry. Take care of yourself, Hopwood.”
“I’ll be down to-morrow,” Hopwood replied confidently, and as Scott disappeared down the winding trail he threw his iron hat far down the side of the mountain.
CHAPTER XX
AN ATTEMPT AT ARSON
As Scott had predicted, it grew dark in the valleys long before he reached home, and he lost the trail on the open ridge. He did not worry because he knew that if he went downhill he would soon come out on a road somewhere, but he was impatient of delay. He was anxious to get back to the camps since he had heard of Foster’s proposal to burn them up. Maybe he was trying it again now.