Westy peered from behind a rock and perceived that the form was not likely to be aware of him now, for his own individual interests and motives seemingly occupied his whole thought and attention.
So Westy rushed down and around the lake not caring if the figure did see him, for his whole duty now lay in the direction of the Inn.
As he came forward, Uncle Jeb and Artie who were sitting up conversing in low tones, looked at him indifferently.
“Uncle Jeb!” whispered Westy, breathless and excited. “Uncle Jeb! I think that the Inn’s on fire!”
“Yuh don’t mean to say!” Uncle Jeb gasped in astonishment. “How d’ye know, boy?”
Westy pointed over toward the Pass and there beyond it and overhead was the reflection in the sky, now a flaming scarlet.
“I saw it from the Pass,” Westy continued, as if to explain. “I’m perfectly sure of it, Uncle Jeb; that is where it is. And I saw something else in the Pass too⸺”
Before Westy could finish his story, Uncle Jeb had nudged his arm and pointed above them to the hollow. They all looked and could not repress the chills that ran up and down their spines.
There in the bright light of the moon was the ghost-like figure of a man descending from the precipice into the hollow on a rope!