The side of the hill facing the "Hundred" was rather too steep for comfortable climbing; moreover, there seemed to be a wagon road, on the right hand slope, which promised a practicable means of ascent. We walked across the lawn and a horse paddock to the Whippany, following the bank of the stream to where it was crossed by a picturesque stone bridge. Straight on lay the road to Lynn C. H., while our woodland way branched off to the left.
It was pleasantly cool in the woods, and inside of twenty minutes we were well up on the hillside, and the library wing of the "Hundred" was in plain view. But there was still no sign of "Warriner's Shelf," as I chose to dub it, and I began to chaff him gently. However Gyp, by way of repaying the favor of being allowed to join us, pushed an inquisitive nose into a mass of tangled wild grapevines. Here was plain token of human progress, and we followed the narrow trail that presently dipped down sharply and then around the shoulder of a big, square rock.
"Warriner's Shelf" at last, a natural bench in the escarpment, not larger than ten feet by six, with a comparatively level floor, and partially sheltered by the overhanging rock wall. The bushes and foliage in general had been cut away in front, leaving an irregular opening about the height of a man and four or five feet in width. "I should never have picked it out in the world," said Warriner, "but for that glint of white." And as he spoke, he detached from a hazel twig a square of cambric, a man's handkerchief. I followed the direction of his glance, and read the initials in one corner—"J. T."
"What do you make of it?" I asked, feeling more than a little puzzled.
"A signal, of course. A sharp eye could pick it out from the terrace, particularly if a hand was waving it."
"Anyhow it is proof that John Thaneford knows of this eyrie and is accustomed to visit it," I added.
"Perfectly. Do you realize, by the way, that we are now on Thaneford property?"
"How so?"
"The dividing line runs a few yards away, and you will find a monument near the base of that white pine. I came up here once with old Richard Hildebrand, and he pointed it out to me. This side of Sugar Loaf belongs to 'Thane Court.'"
"Then we are trespassers."