They
were in a road ridged with grass and flanked by bushes. One end ran east
into a wooded valley, the other debouched on the highway a few feet to
the right of the tavern.
"The lane!" exclaimed Mr. Harper. "The lead towards the waterfall was a
feint. It was in this direction she fled, and it is from this point that
search must be made for her."
Ransom, greatly perturbed, for this possibility of secret flight opened
vistas of as much mystery, if not of as much suffering, as her death in
the river, glanced at the sodden ground under their feet, and thus along
the lane to where it lost itself from view among the trees.
"No possible following of steps here," he declared. "A hundred people
must have come this way since early morning."
"It's a short cut from the Ferry. They told me last night that it
lessened the distance by fully a quarter of a mile."
"The Ferry! Can she be there? Or in the woods, or on her way to some
unknown place far out of our reach? The thought is maddening, Mr. Harper,
and I feel as helpless as a child under it. Shall we get detectives from
the county-seat, or start on the hunt ourselves? We might hear something
further on to help us."
"We might; but I should rather stay on the immediate scene at present.
Ah, there comes a fellow in a cart who should be able to tell us
something! Stand by and I'll accost him.
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