And in America he had met the princess—the splendid princess!
The moon sank behind the mountains, and with its disappearance Friedrich slept.
XVIII
Business Plans
Through the early morning's shifting mist—the haze that foretells a fine day—two men felt their way up the side of Buzzard Mountain. They followed no path,—indeed, there are few trails to follow,—but they climbed steadily on, as if they knew well their way, and as if speed were of importance.
With all their perseverance they could not cover much ground, for the ascent is sharp enough to clutch the lungs, and the mist covered for them a world of stumbling-blocks.
"H'm," grunted the leader, Pink Pressley. "They oughter be a black oak about here with a varmint hole in hit."
He stopped and peered about him through the gloom, while Bud, his companion, took the opportunity to lay his burden upon the ground while he wiped his forehead with a blue handkerchief. He made no response to his friend's remarks, but wore the air of one who does what he is bid, and follows where he is led. Pink swung himself into motion again.
"Ah reckon we ain' high enough, yet," he growled, and swore softly as he struck his foot against an unseen stone.