“My dear Elfreda, we are involved in so many mysteries that, first thing we know, we will be accusing each other. To-morrow being Sunday, I suggest that we go over the diary—get off somewhere by ourselves and make a thorough job of it,” suggested Grace, to which Elfreda agreed with a nod.
Grace, at this juncture, turned in her saddle to see what had become of Stacy, who had been lagging behind all the morning. He was not in sight when she looked, but the next time she turned he was observed back some distance, riding off the trail a little way, leaning over and catching bushes in his hands.
“I wonder what mischief that boy is up to now?” murmured Grace. “Surely he is not doing that solely for exercise.”
“Don’t you think he needs exercise?” questioned Miss Briggs with a smile.
Grace’s answer was a laugh.
“Nevertheless I owe Stacy Brown an obligation that I never can repay,” added Elfreda gravely, and to this Grace gave an emphatic assent.
The day’s journey was without incident, and was thoroughly enjoyed. Many trails were crossed, some of which Hamilton White halted to examine, and then proceeded on his way without comment, unless he gave an opinion to Hippy Wingate who was riding beside him. Emma Dean kept as close to the guide as possible, and watched him as though fearing that he might get away from her. The guide, however, gave only the most ordinary attention to Emma, just as he did to the others of the party.
“Is there much gold up this way, or is it a myth?” Hippy was asking him, as the fat boy continued with his operations at the rear of the line of horses.
“There undoubtedly is plenty of it if one knew where or how to find it. I never did, never expect to, and don’t know that I should care to. In my experience I have learned that not only is gold an elusive substance, but that it seldom brings the finder happiness. Ordinarily it brings him disaster, even death!”
“Whew! You talk like an actor playing in a tragedy,” observed Lieutenant Wingate.