All the time Bart thought deeply and practically.
"I have decided," he spoke definitely after a quarter of an hour. "I
shall turn to my left the first road I come to. The B. & M. does not
touch short of eight miles from here, but somewhere to the southeast is
Clyde Station. Once there, I'll risk the rest."
The road was not an easy one. It was not very smooth, and grew more
stony and rutty as he proceeded, and there was a sharp climb for the
horse as they reached a hilly landscape.
Bart halted finally. A road branched to the left. It did not look very
inviting, nor did it seem to be much in use, but as it led away from the
main highway, it broke the trail, and without hesitation he turned the
horse's head in the direction of Clyde Station.
The country was open here, all rocks, gullies and pits. He was surprised
to observe how little distance he had really put between himself and the
Tolliver camp as the road wound out along the crest of a hill.
He jumped out to lighten the load and coax up the horse. Then he stood
stock-still, straining his eyes across the valley.
"I declare!" said Bart in a tone of profound concern, "I got away just
in time, but if that is Lem Wacker, he has appeared on the scene just
ten minutes too soon to suit me.
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