“When the slow declining sun sinks beyond yonder hills,” said Brent. “Sounds like a play, doesn’t it?”
But just the same the twilight did play its part in Tom’s plan. Daggett, Burke and Heinie were out on the lake after their day’s labor. Rivers was down the wagon trail still working; he seldom observed the regular hours. Thus, unseen by any save Brent and myself, Tom climbed the huge elm which overspread our lodge. It was fifteen minutes or more before he descended.
“You’re right,” he said conclusively, “there’s a trail all right. This is getting interesting.”
“Is it up there in the tree?” Brent asked.
“Come ahead,” said Tom as he explained volubly. “You know how it is at twilight, the light’s the same all over—while it lasts. Get up high somewhere and look down and if there’s a trail you’ll see it. Why in the war the aviators used to discover trails that had never been seen down below, just little trails made by soldiers going single file—new trails. Twilight’s the best time. Or very early morning if there’s no mist. This trail runs from—well, between those two cabins, up past those rocks, and on up.”
“Do you believe now that I saw that face?” I asked.
“What’s this got to do with faces?” he snapped. “Come ahead, follow me.”
“To-morrow evening, at twilight, I’ll climb up the tree and take a nap up there,” said Brent. “Then I’ll be able to tell you if your dream was true.”
“Well, don’t take a nap down here,” said Tom. “Come on, let’s get away from here before the boys come in.”
On he went, pausing now and again to examine the ground or scrutinize some brush or tree that we passed. I could not see any sign of trail. Brent accompanied us with a kind of whimsical submissiveness. Tom was so detached and preoccupied that he did not question him. Here indeed he was at his best, the true scout, and seeing no guiding line beneath our feet, I marveled as he verged to right or left acting, apparently, on the hint of some stone or drooping bough. Once, when we were well upon the mountainside he paused, whistling in preoccupation, as he studied a tree trunk from which he said an obstructing branch had been broken off within a month or two, he thought. “Didn’t you notice that the other day?” he asked me. He looked about and found the severed branch in a grassy gully near by. “See?” he concluded triumphantly.