Grace Harlowes Overland Riders Among the Kentucky Mountaineers | Page 9

deeper into the bush.
"Oh, that impossible boy!" complained Grace. "He nearly frightened me out of my wits. The firing has stopped. I must know what has happened."
Grace crept on cautiously, listening intently, not knowing what moment she might come upon the mountaineer. Either he had been hit or he was still stalking the camp, and she must settle the question in her mind before she would feel safe to settle down for the night.
"Is that you, Grace?" demanded a low, guarded voice just ahead of her.
"Oh, yes! Gracious, Tom, you gave me a start that time! Where is the man?"
"Gone away."
"Was it you who shot at him?"
"No. I was just about to let him have it when some one fired two shots from a revolver. The second shot hit the man in his shoulder, I think, spinning him clean around and dropping him. He was up and staggering away in a few seconds. I followed him for some little distance; then, being satisfied that he was trying to get away, I came back."
"I hope he stays away," said Grace with emphasis.
"He may be back in force," answered Tom. "I could easily have hit the fellow, and was about to put a bullet through his leg when the revolver shots were fired. Say, Grace! You did not do that, did you?"
"No, Tom, I did not, nor do I know who did. Let's go into camp."
They got up and walked briskly back, calling out to the Overlanders that they were coming.
"He has gone," cried Grace as the two emerged into the clearing.
"Tom, did you wing the critter?" demanded Hippy.
"Hippy, did you fire those shots?" demanded Tom Gray, each asking his question at the same time.
There was a laugh from the girls, and another laugh when both men replied in chorus, "I did not!"
"Where's Washington?" asked Miss Briggs.
"I heard him yell," answered Hippy. "Hope the kid hasn't gotten into trouble. I'll go look for him."
"Yes," spoke up Grace. "I stepped on his neck and he uttered a frightful howl and ran away."
"The question now appears to be, 'Who killed Cock Robin?'" observed Emma Dean. "We know who stepped on Laundry's neck, but we do not know who fired the fatal shot."
"Mystery, mystery, mystery!" complained Miss Briggs. "This is only our first day out and we have involved ourselves in a maze of it, with an excellent foundation laid for future trouble."
"All because that husband of mine ran that deputy sheriff out of our camp," wailed Nora. "Hippy will be the death of all of us yet."
"Hippy did exactly right," approved Tom Gray. "What I am thinking about now is why the mountaineer came here to order us out. I have my suspicions, and I don't like the outlook at all."
"Don't worry, Tom dear," soothed Grace.
"Yes, the worst is yet to come," called Hippy Wingate, at this juncture appearing leading Washington Washington by the ear. "I found Laundry hiding in the bushes. Sit down there and behave yourself, Little Snowdrop, and let that harmonica alone for the rest of the night. Will some one tell me what became of Jeremiah Long?"
"The Mystery Man is here," announced a voice, and the spectacle man walked up rubbing his hands and smiling in great good humor. "What's the excitement?"
"Where did you go so suddenly?" demanded Hippy frowningly.
"I went out to stake down my horse and get my store--my grip. Did I not hear shooting?"
"Yes. We had a visitor and--" Emma bubbled over with words as she described what had occurred after Long's departure, to all of which he listened attentively. "Somebody, we don't know who, shot him in the shoulder. Who do you think could have done that, Mr. Long?"
"Very mysterious, very mysterious," answered the Mystery Man.
Grace and Elfreda were regarding him keenly.
"Think I'll pitch my camp by your fire to-night, if you haven't any objection," announced the visitor.
"You are quite welcome," offered Tom. "If you wish to, you can bunk in with the lieutenant and myself. There is room for three in our tent. We could not think of letting you sleep outside in this chill air."
"Outside for me," answered Mr. Long. "Must have air and plenty of it. You see I heat it up inside of me and use it later to sell my goods. A promoter, you know, must depend upon hot air because what he's selling won't float on cold air."
Grace brought out blankets and a pneumatic pillow which she placed in a heap near the fire.
"Make up your bed on the softest spot you can find, Mr. Long, though I do not believe there is much choice," said Grace. Then, in a lower voice: "I hope you may not find it necessary to shoot any more mountaineers to-night, Mr. Long."
"Sh--h--h--h--h!" warned the Mystery Man. "I don't know what you're talking about," he