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The obscurity of the place prevented Hippolitus from distinguishing the features of the dying man. From the blood which covered him, and from the surrounding circumstances, he appeared to be murdered; and the count had no doubt that the men he beheld were the murderers. The horror of the scene entirely overcame him; he stood rooted to the spot, and saw the assassins rifle the pockets of the dying person, who, in a voice scarcely articulate, but which despair seemed to aid, supplicated for mercy. The ruffians answered him only with execrations, and continued their plunder. His groans and his sufferings served only to aggravate their cruelty. They were proceeding to take from him a miniature picture, which was fastened round his neck, and had been hitherto concealed in his bosom; when by a sudden effort he half raised himself from the ground, and attempted to save it from their hands. The effort availed him nothing; a blow from one of the villains laid the unfortunate man on the floor without motion. The horrid barbarity of the act seized the mind of Hippolitus so entirely, that, forgetful of his own situation, he groaned aloud, and started with an instantaneous design of avenging the deed. The noise he made alarmed the banditti, who looking whence it came, discovered the count through the casement. They instantly quitted their prize, and rushed towards the door of the room. He was now returned to a sense of his danger, and endeavoured to escape to the exterior part of the ruin; but terror bewildered his senses, and he mistook his way. Instead of regaining the arch-way, he perplexed himself with fruitless wanderings, and at length found himself only more deeply involved in the secret recesses of the pile.,

The man hesitated a moment before going on with the conversation. When he spoke it was seemingly from a new angle.,

“I thought you might like to have this.” And Johnny Blossom placed the pill box on the table and gazed expectantly into Aunt Grenertsen’s wrinkled face.,

It was only an excuse when he had told himself that it was all right to sail with an umbrella. He knew perfectly well that it wasn’t. Ugh! how disobedient he had been, he who was heir of Kingthorpe, too! Before, it didn’t matter so very much if he were disobedient; but everything was different now that he was the Kingthorpe heir. He must not be disobedient any more, for it was shameful. How sorry, how sorry he was!

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“They will have to!” was the confident reply. “I’ll draw up a report the moment we strike camp! But now we’ll have to run for our train. I’ve been so interested, I forgot the time.”,

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To the boys’ great joy, they found they had come out of the canyon at a point only twenty miles from the railroad. They determined to hike for it the next day. Before they started the next morning, Bob had an idea.,

From where they were sitting, screened by the undergrowth, they could see a section of a rough path that led up the hillside. For a long time nothing happened. As the Indian did not speak, Bob felt it best to remain quiet also. Probably there was a reason for it. The delay did not worry him much, however, as there was plenty of material for his mind to be busy with. Ever since he had talked with Mr. Whitney, events had tumbled upon him one after another. Mr. Whitney had gone and Ted was doing outpost duty. Jerry was on the other side. Only the Indian was left to him and he was not much of a counselor. True, he was beginning to prove himself a great help but through the limitations of language he could not be used to discuss what ought to be done regarding the things they found out. What the outcome of the mess was to be was beyond Bob’s imagination to foresee. He was determined to do what he felt was his duty, and if the consequences were serious it could not be helped.