CHAPTER XXX.

  SEARCH FOR THE TRAIL.

  "Preston March!"

  The man who had just stepped out of the tent fell back, a look ofastonishment, not unmingled with fear, on his face.

  "Yes, Preston March!" cried the Hermit. "You know me, and I know you,treacherous friend, base scoundrel that you are!"

  The man called Foster Fairfax lifted his hands, as if to ward off ablow.

  "Preston, it was a mistake--a fearful mistake."

  "For you--yes! I have sworn by the heavens above to have your life iffate ever threw you across my path. I shall keep that oath!"

  "I expect it."

  "Then draw your weapon, and defend yourself! I shall not murder you incold blood. Draw, draw!"

  "No! Shoot, if you will! I'll never lift a hand against you."

  "Coward?"

  The Hermit was quivering with fury, while the face of the other man wasstill ghastly white.

  Other men came from the tent, rubbing their eyes, all of them very muchsurprised. One of them attempted to intervene.

  "Here!" he cried, addressing the Hermit; "what do you mean by cominginto this camp and raising such a row? Are you insane? You are not goingto do any shooting here!"

  Old Rocks strode forward, Frank Merriwell at his heels.

  "I'll allow as how the Hermit has fair play," said the guide, grimly."He ain't alone in this yar deal."

  "Who are you?" demanded the man, haughtily. "Are we to be assailed by aband of desperadoes?"

  "None whatever. I'm hyar ter see fair play. I'll allow thar's somedeeficulty atwixt these yere gents, an' ther Hermit feels like settlin'right now an' yere."

  "It is an outrage! You have no right to come here and make trouble.Fairfax, if that ruffian touches you----"

  Foster Fairfax motioned the speaker to be silent.

  "This man is not a ruffian," he declared, speaking as calmly aspossible. "There is a misunderstanding between us. I have wronged him,and he has a right to seek satisfaction."

  The man's companions were astonished by his words. They looked at him ina dazed way.

  Even the Hermit seemed a trifle surprised, but he said:

  "It is true, and I demand satisfaction. Draw and defend yourself,Fairfax!"

  "No; you have not wronged me. Here, March--here is my heart! Shoot! Youcannot miss it at this distance."

  Preston March, the Hermit of Yellowstone Park, half lifted the weaponwhich he had drawn. Then he fell back a step, hoarsely saying:

  "Would you put a curse upon me by making me a murderer? You have aweapon. Draw it, and we will play fair and even. It shall be a duel tothe death at twenty paces. One of us shall die! The other can go backto----"

  "Hold! Speak not the name here! I tell you, Preston, there was ablunder--a frightful blunder. If you will listen----"

  "You will tell me a mess of lies. A man who would deceive his bestfriend as you deceived me would not hesitate to lie with his lastbreath!"

  "You shall judge if I lie. If you demand that I meet you, I demand thatyou first listen to my explanation."

  "If I must----"

  "On no other condition will I meet you."

  "But there are others to hear. Will you speak before them?"

  "No. Come aside where no one but ourselves may hear."

  The Hermit bowed, and they walked away, keeping several feet apart.

  "Wa-al," drawled Old Rocks, "we don't seem ter be in thet none whatever,an' so we'd best make ourselves easy."

  He flung himself down upon the ground, produced his black pipe and aplug of tobacco, and began preparing for a smoke, whittling off thetobacco with his bowie-knife.

  The campers drew aside and talked among themselves, regarding theiruninvited visitors with suspicion, which did not disturb the guide atall.

  Frank was restless. He walked up and down, keeping his eyes on Fairfaxand the Hermit, who had halted at a distance and were talking earnestly.

  In the east the streaky clouds had flushed to a deep red and paled againto richest gold. To the west the mighty mountains which rose beyond thelake were wrapped in garments of rose. The light of day had spreaditself over all the heavens, and the sun was shooting glittering glancesabove the horizon.

  The campers began to move about. Wood was piled upon the ashes wherethe last embers of the old fire still smoldered, and the crackling of amatch was followed by a blaze.

  Some of the campers prepared breakfast, while one of them approached OldRocks, whom he questioned concerning the Hermit.

  "Yer know purty derned nigh ez much 'bout him ez I do," grunted theguide. "All I know is thet he's bin hyar in ther park fer ther last y'arur so. Some galoots has said as how he wuz cracked in ther upper story,but I'll allow thet's a mistake. Yer heard t'other gent admit thet he'ddone the Hermit a crooked turn, an' I reckons thet's whut makes therHermit whut he is. Now I've tol' yer whutever I know 'bout ther Hermit,mebbe ye'll give me a few p'ints 'bout t'other gent?"

  "We know nothing in particular of him, save that he seems to be a man ofleisure and means, rather melancholy, given to fits of despondency,followed by spells of wild hilarity."

  A queer look came into the guide's eye, and he asked:

  "How much o' it does he drink a day?"

  "How much what?"

  "Hilarity. Does he kerry it in quart bottles, or by ther gallon?"

  "He does drink at times," admitted the camper; "but he declares that hehates liquor, and I believe him. He seems to take it to drown memory."

  "Wa-al, he may drown memory fer an hour ur so, but he'll find it comesback a derned sight harder when he lets up on drinkin'."

  Rocks lighted his pipe, settled himself into a comfortable position, andbegan to smoke.

  The fire was burning brightly, and a blackened coffee-pot was broughtforth. As soon as there were some coals, the pot was placed upon them,and it soon began to simmer and send forth a delightful odor, makingFrank ravenously hungry.

  Old Rocks was hungry, but he showed no symptom of it, smoking onindifferently, all the while keeping an eye on the Hermit and Fairfax.

  Frank offered to pay for something to eat and a cup of coffee; but thecampers declined to take anything, telling him he was welcome. They thenoffered Old Rocks something, and the guide accepted gracefully.

  For nearly an hour the Hermit and Foster Fairfax talked. The manner ofboth became subdued, and the strange man of the park seemed to have losthis desire to meet Fairfax in a deadly encounter.

  All at once they parted, and the Hermit hurried away, while Fairfaxwalked back toward the camp.

  Old Rocks shouted to the Hermit, but the man paid no heed to the call.

  "Come, youngster," said the guide, getting on his feet and picking uphis rifle. "We'd best foller thet critter. He said he hed a chance, an'thet wuz whut we wuz arter."

  Frank thanked the campers for their hospitality, and then hastened afterOld Rocks, who was striding away after the Hermit, who had alreadyvanished from view.

  "Whatever's got inter ther man?" growled the guide. "He seems ter hevclean fergot we're on earth."

  For at least a mile Old Rocks followed on the trail of the Hermit, andit finally ended at the shore of the lake, where it was seen that theman had taken a canoe.

  And far out on the lake he was paddling swiftly away.

  Putting his hands to his mouth, the guide sent a call across the water:

  "Oh, Hermit!"

  The man paddled on without looking back. Rocks repeated the cry severaltimes, but without apparent effect, and then gave up in disgust.

  "I'll allow this is onery!" he growled, as he sat down and lighted hispipe once more. "Dog my cats ef it ain't!"

  Frank was disheartened.

  "Poor little Fay!" he murmured, sadly. "What will become of her?"

  "We'll find her," declared Old Rocks, grimly. "We'll find her ef we hevter tramp clean round this yar lake ter strike ther trail o' them p'izenBlackfeet!"

  "Do you think we can ever find their trail?"
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  "Wa-al, I'll allow! Ain't we got ter find 'em? Ain't they got ter cometer shore somewhar? You bet yer boots! Old Rocks is on ther warpath, an'ther measly varmints want ter look out!"

  The guide seemed very much in earnest, which gave Frank fresh hope. Theboy was ready to spend any length of time in the search for the missingchild.

  Having smoked and meditated a short time, Old Rocks arose.

  "Come," he said, and he struck out once more.

  Along the shore they went, the eyes of the guide always searching forthe trail. Sometimes they were forced back from the water by steepbluffs and precipices, but the guide missed no places where the Indianscould have landed.

  It was about midway in the forenoon that the trail was struck. Thecanoes were found craftily concealed, and in the soft ground near thelake were the imprints of tiny feet.

  "Thar!" cried Old Rocks, looking at the marks; "thet shows we ain't on awild-goose chase. Now we don't hold up none whatever till we overtakesther p'izen skunks an' rescues ther gal. You hear me!"

  "The grizzly folded Frank in his embrace, crushing thelad against his shaggy breast." (See page 205)]