“Can I serve you in any way, madame?”
The lady glanced at him quickly and searchingly, and then, seeming assured of the reporter’s honesty, replied:
“I am looking for an old acquaintance of mine—one Major Axell.”
“He is not in camp, ma’am,” said Spidertracks. “He was at Rum Valley a few days ago, when our party was organized to come here.”
“I was there yesterday,” said the lady, looking greatly disappointed, “and was told he started for here a day or two before.”
“Some mistake, ma’am, I assure you,” replied Spidertracks. “I should have known of his arrival if he had come. I’m an old newspaper man, ma’am, and can’t get out of the habit of getting the news.”
The lady turned away, but seemed irresolute. The reporter followed her.
“If you will return to Rum Valley, ma’am, I’ll find the major for you, if he is hereabouts,” said he. “You will be more comfortable there, and I will be more likely than you to find him.”
The lady hesitated for a moment longer; then she drew from her pocket a diary, wrote a line or two on one of its leaves, tore it out and handed it to the reporter.
“I will accept your offer, and be very grateful for it, for I do not bear this mountain traveling very well. If you find him, give him this scrawl and tell him where I am—that will be sufficient.”