I RUN ACROSS ERIC
I slept three hours, the dead sleep of sheer exhaustion, but felt refreshed and strong when roughly aroused. Before sunset I was across the river, where I found my little squad of Dragoons prepared for their night's adventure. Arnold had kept his word, the fresh horses being fine animals, the ammunition in excess of our needs. Conroy was enthusiastic, and somewhat loquacious, but I cut his conversation off rather sharply, and ordered the men into their saddles. With brain clarified by sleep I realized the importance of the work before us, and how imperfect my plans were. I could merely ride forth to Elmhurst, hoping to pick up some clew to aid me. As we rode rapidly along the deserted road leading to Farrel's I reviewed over and over again every remembered detail, only to conclude that I must get hands on Grant, and by threats, or any other available means, compel him to confess his part in the villainy. Dusk settled about us, succeeded by night, as we pressed steadily forward, the men riding silently, the only sound the thud of hoofs, and the slight jingle of accoutrements. As we passed the black walls of Farrell's shop, I recalled the papers found in Grant's coat, and the reference in Fagin's note to a rendezvous at Lone Tree. Probably that was the spot where the two had been accustomed to meeting. If true in the past, why not now as well? Suddenly it occurred to me that it was at a place called Lone Tree that the minute men had gathered for their attack on Delavan's wagon train. Could this, by any possibility, be the same spot? I drew my horse back beside Conroy.
"Ever heard of a place called Lone Tree?" I asked quietly.
He rubbed his head thoughtfully.
"Not just about here, sir. We camped over east of there once, maybe a year ago, down in a hollow where there was one big tree standin' all alone, kind of an odd lookin' tree, sir, and seems to me, the guide said the place was called something like that. Say, Tom," to the nearest Dragoon, "do you remember that Lone Tree where we camped when we were out huntin' Tarleton?"
"Sure; in east of Medford. There was a farmhouse across on the side of a hill. I got some buttermilk there."
"Wasn't that what the guide called the place—Lone Tree?"
"Derned if I know, Sergeant. Don't recollect hearin' the guide say anythin' 'bout that, but the woman at the house told me her place was called Lone Tree Cottage—so I reckon he might."
This was a chance worth trying, and would require a detour of but a few miles. My decision was made quickly.
"We will take the first turn to the left, and have a look at the place," I said. "Conroy, you and Tom ride ahead, and keep your eyes open."