would be that much sooner in Shelby; he would hear the accusation
against him and refute it before she saw him again.

But Mr. Black's thoughts were less pleasing than hers. He had
never had more than a passing hope of Oliver's innocence, and now
he had none at all. The young man had fled, not in response to his
father's telegram, but under the impulse of his own fears. They
would not find him in Shelby when they returned. They might never
find him anywhere again. A pretty story to carry back to the
judge.

As he dwelt upon this thought, his reflections grew more and more
gloomy, and he had little to say till he reached the turn where
the two men still awaited them.

In the encounter which followed no attempt was made by either
party to disguise the nature of the business which had brought
them thus together. The man whom Mr. Black took to be a Shelby
detective nodded as they met and remarked, with a quick glance at
Reuther:

"So you've come without him! I'm sorry for that. I was in hopes
that I might be spared the long ride up the mountain."

Mr. Black limited his answer to one of his sour smiles.

"Whose horse is this?" came in peremptory demand from the other
man, with a nod towards the animal which could now be seen idly
grazing by the wayside. "And how came it on the road alone?"