She was some time in deciding just what should be done. Her first impulse was to take the up-trail as soon as darkness had fallen and to make her way back to her friends.
“But that,” she told herself, “means the end of our hopes.”
At once there passed before her closed eyes pictures of brave, laughing little children of the mountain; ragged, barefooted, pleading children, walking miles over the frosts of November to attend their school, the first real school they would have known.
“No!” She set her teeth hard. “There is still a way. I will wait here for Marion’s signal. It will come. If she has news, good news, somehow I will find my way to Caleb Powers. Somehow the race must be won!”
CHAPTER III
A DARTING SHADOW
That same evening, just at dusk, Marion came upon a fresh and startling mystery. She had climbed the hill at the back of the ancient whipsawed cabin which was occupied by Mrs. McAlpin and her friends.
Beside the bubbling brook that sang so softly, she had found she could think calmly. There was reason enough for calm thinking, too. They had entered into this business of buying the Powell coal tract, expecting only mild adventure and possibly a large profit. Mysterious things were happening to Florence. She was sure of that. By the aid of the Silent Alarm she had received a message from her. The message had warned her to retreat, to return to the whipsawed cabin and wait. She had obeyed.
It was indeed very singular.
“What can have happened?” Marion now asked herself for the hundredth time. “Wherever she may be, she can hardly be out of reach of the Silent Alarm. Darkness will find me again on the trail that leads to the crest of Pine Mountain.
“She must succeed! Must! Must!” she told herself. “And I must let her know. I surely must!”