“Let us enjoy the sun while we may, auntie,” said Joe, in her buoyant way. “See how beautifully the sun is setting behind yonder rim of mountains. It makes me in love with the country, and I never, never want to see the hot, dusty city again. I don’t see what makes Rob so late to-night. He thought he would get home early.”
Perhaps it is well we cannot read what is taking place beyond our sight, or light-hearted Joe would have shuddered at that moment over the fortunes of her youthful lover.
Let us see what Rob is doing at this moment.
In going back and forth between Break o’ Day and the home of Deacon Cornhill he had found the west route by way of the “Flying Jump” his best course, it being nearly a mile shorter, though more broken at places.
Rob had not been at work many days for Deacon Cornhill before he found there a second-hand bicycle left by a nephew, and which Mrs. Cornhill, who was overcoming her prejudice for him, kindly loaned to Little Hickory. In the morning he found his wheel of considerable help to him, though in returning to his home he had to walk more than half the way.
On this particular evening when Joe was so light-hearted and not a cloud had been discovered on the horizon of the young republic, Rob was climbing one of the long ascents leading to Break o’ Day, wheeling his bicycle along beside him as he slowly advanced.
About midway in the ascent was that wild section of the route called “Flying Jump,” where the mountain road, after hanging for several rods on the very brink of a high precipice, took a sudden turn and descended with dizzy abruptness into a narrow, dark ravine, to rise on the other side with equal steepness.
A small stream wound through the lonely valley, at places finding a difficult passage, so that at high water it would overflow the gorge to a considerable depth.
Little Hickory always walked this portion of his route, and at this time he had barely reached the western summit, and was casting swift glances over his wild surroundings, when he was suddenly confronted by two masked men, who had stepped silently from the thicket overhanging the road.
It was evident that they had been lying in wait for him, for, simultaneously with their appearance, both drew revolvers, and pointing the deadly weapons at Rob’s head, one of them cried out, in a sharp tone: