Wears it on a string under his
shirt."
Meantime, the seasons did not wait the discovery of the secret. The red
pools in Blazing Star highway were soon dried up in the fervent June sun
and riotous night wind of those altitudes. The ephemeral grasses that
had quickly supplanted these pools and the chocolate-colored mud, were
as quickly parched and withered. The footprints of spring became vague
and indefinite, and were finally lost in the impalpable dust of the
summer highway.
In one of his long, aimless excursions, Cass had penetrated a thick
undergrowth of buckeye and hazel, and found himself quite unexpectedly
upon the high road to Red Chief's Crossing. Cass knew by the lurid cloud
of dust that hid the distance, that the up coach had passed. He had
already reached that stage of superstition when the most trivial
occurrence seemed to point in some way to an elucidation of the mystery
of his treasure. His eyes had mechanically fallen to the ground
again, as if he half expected to find in some other waif a hint or
corroboration of his imaginings. Thus abstracted, the figure of a young
girl on horseback, in the road directly before the bushes he emerged
from, appeared to have sprung directly from the ground.
"Oh, come here, please do; quick!"
Cass stared, and then moved hesitatingly toward her.
"I heard some one coming through the bushes, and I waited," she went on.
"Come quick. It's something too awful for anything.
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