truthfully.

"I ain't sure ef that ain't the safest thing arter all with a shot like
Harry," remarked the old man grimly. "Well, so long!" he added, and
turned away.

It was clearly a leave-taking, and Brice, warmly thanking them both,
returned to the road.

It was not far to the scene of the obstruction, yet but for Tarbox's
timely hint, the little trail up the mountain side would have escaped
his observation. Ascending, he soon found himself creeping along a
narrow ledge of rock, hidden from the road that ran fifty yards below by
a thick network growth of thorn and bramble, which still enabled him to
see its whole parallel length. Perilous in the extreme to any hesitating
foot, at one point, directly above the obstruction, the ledge itself
was missing--broken away by the fall of the tree from the forest crest
higher up. For an instant Brice stood dizzy and irresolute before the
gap. Looking down for a foothold, his eye caught the faint imprint of
a woman's shoe on a clayey rock projecting midway of the chasm. It must
have been the young girl's footprint made that morning, for the narrow
toe was pointed in the direction she would go! Where SHE could pass
should he shrink from going? Without further hesitation he twined his
fingers around the roots above him, and half swung, half pulled himself
along until he once more felt the ledge below him.

From time to time, as he went on along the difficult track, the narrow
little toe-print pointed the way to him, like an arrow through the
wilds. It was a pleasant thought, and yet a perplexing one. Would he
have undertaken this quest just to see her? Would he be content with