Far up the second ravine he found the dead tree that hung over it, and the pathway up the side of the hill beside it; and that night he camped again in the woods.
He had not far to go that second morning, after he had eaten some breakfast, before he arrived at the Dog's Nose. It was ten o'clock in the morning when he got there.
All that morning Nick had noticed signs that he was approaching the region where he would find the hobo gang. He had seen where trees had been chopped down and corded up for firewood; and there were many other signs that many men were in the vicinity.
When he came to the shelter of the Dog's Nose, he stopped there, and, having fixed himself a temporary camp, resolved that he would remain there until night, for he had some hope that some of the hoboes would happen along, and that he could talk with them.
That was his game; not to sneak upon them unawares, but to let it be known that he was in the neighborhood, so that Handsome would come to him. He wanted that ordeal over with Handsome as soon as possible.
He was destined not to be disappointed. The afternoon was well advanced when Handsome suddenly stepped out of a cluster of balsams, and stood before him.
He had approached as silently as an Indian; as if he had passed his life in woodcraft, and, indeed, Nick had no doubt that he had.
For a moment he stood there near the balsams, silently regarding the detective; and Nick, perfectly acting the part of Turner, looked up and nodded, but said nothing.
After a little Handsome strode forward, no longer taking care to remain quiet; and he seated himself on a log near Nick, and facing him, while at the same time he toyed with apparent carelessness with a revolver he held in his hand.
"What brings you here, Turner?" he asked at last.