"I believe I'll go along," said Wheaton, suddenly. "We can be back by noon to-morrow," he added, conscientiously, remembering his duties at the bank.
"All right," said Warry. "We're taking bags along in case of emergencies." A boy came down carrying Saxton's suit-case. Wheaton and Raridan hurried out together to The Bachelors' to get their own things. It was a relief to Wheaton to have something to do; it was hardly possible that Snyder had fled to the ranch house; but in any event he was glad to get away from Clarkson for a few hours.
As the train drew out of the station Raridan and Saxton left Wheaton and went to the rear of their sleeper, which was the last, and stood on the observation platform, watching the receding lights of the city. The day had been warm for the season; as the air quickened into life with the movement of the train they sat down, with a feeling of relief, on the stools which the porter brought them. They had done all that they could do, and there was nothing now but to wait. The train rattled heavily through the yards at the edge of town, and the many lights of the city grew dimmer as they receded. Suddenly Raridan rose and pointed to a single star that glowed high on a hill.
"It's the light in the tower at the Porters'," he said, bending down to Saxton, "her light!"
"It's the light of all the valley," said Saxton, rising and putting his hand on his friend's shoulder. He, too, knew the light!
The train was gathering speed now; the wheels began to croon their melody of distance; one last curve, and the star of the Hill had been blotted out.
"It's like a flower in an inaccessible place on a hillside," said Raridan; and he repeated half aloud some lines of a poem that had lately haunted him:
"'Though I be mad, I shall not wake;
I shall not fall to common sight;