There were no lights on the
river, but after a time he made out the vague shape of an object
moving on the surface a long way off. From time to time it was
lost in the shadows of the tree-lined bank, only to steal into view
again as it moved slowly across a jagged opening in the far-reaching
wall of black. It was a boat coming upstream, hugging the bank to
avoid the current farther out.
Some one approached. He turned quickly and beheld the figure of
a woman coming down the road. His heart leaped. Could it be Alix?
He dismissed the thought immediately. This was a tall woman--in
skirts. She came quite close and stopped, her gaze evidently
fixed upon him. Then she moved a little farther down the slope and
stood watching the ferry which, by this time, was moving out from
the farther side. He recognized the figure. It was that of the
gaunt woman who crossed with him earlier in the night.
The ferry was drawing out from the Windomville side when a faint
shout came from down the river. Burk answered the call, which was
repeated.
"This is my busy night," growled the ferryman. "I ain't been up
this late in a coon's age. Not since the Old Settlers' Picnic three
years ago down at the old fort. I wonder if those fellers have got
any news?"
Courtney stepped off the boat a few minutes later and hurried up
the hill. The woman followed. At the top of the slope he passed
three or four men standing in the shelter of the blacksmith shop,
where they were protected from the sharp, chill wind that had
sprung up.
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