Rathburn nodded smilingly. It was the cabin where he had first seen the girl.
“It’s ’bout twenty-nine miles to the mine by the 130 road,” the man explained; “but that trail will take you there in less’n twenty. Well, maybe twenty or twenty-one. Or you can go up the road till you get to the big hogback––that’s where they held up the truck driver yesterday––and cut straight up the hill from the south end.”
“I guess those are the best trails from what you say,” was Rathburn’s yawning comment.
“Them’s the best,” the other added. “There’s another trail going out below town that follows southeast along a big ridge, but that trail’s as far as the road. When you goin’ up?”
“I dunno,” replied Rathburn noncommittally. “Say, I guess I know where that cabin is on the left side of the road going up. I stopped at a cabin up there coming down an’ asked a gal how far it was to town–––”
“That’s it,” said the barn man. “That’s the one. Trail starts right back of that cabin.”
Rathburn yawned again. “Smart-lookin’ gal,” he observed, digging for his tobacco and papers. “Who is she?”
“That’s Joe Carlisle’s sister. Anyway, he says she is. There’s been some talk. Carlisle lives there when he ain’t out in the hills or on a gamblin’ trip to some other town.”
“I see. Well, old-timer, I ain’t hung on the feed bag since morning, an’ I’m going on a still hunt for some grub.”
Rathburn went to the Red Feather for his dinner. He was thoughtful through the meal and kept an eye out for Carlisle, but didn’t see him. During the remainder of the afternoon he hung about the Red Feather and other resorts, but did not see Carlisle.