Chapter XI: The Lost Agreement

Mr. Temple jogged along with Uncle Jeb in a dilapidated buckboard, oblivious of any discomfort, for he was fascinated with this old scout’s quaint views of life, and listened attentively to the reminiscences of his trapping days.

“Don’t do much else now but chore aroun’,” he said rather sadly. “Guess I’m a-gittin’ too old!”

“Not at all,” Mr. Temple reassured him.

“Wa-al, anyway I’m a figgerin’ on givin’ up my cabin one of these days,” he said. “’Tain’t jest the thing when a man gits so old ter live by himself, and my cabin’s pretty fur frum the Inn.”

“I’d very much like to see it,” Mr. Temple remarked.

“Wa-al, sir, yure shure are welcome ter come and stay a piece with me.”

“That’s very kind, but I couldn’t stay but one night with you.”

“I’m right glad to hev yuh and I’ll take yuh up and bring yer back so yer kin git to Ezry’s place after.”

By that time they had arrived at the Inn.

The next morning they started before sun-up, just Mr. Temple and Uncle Jeb, on foot, of course. The trail began at the foot of the mountain just back of the Inn. Along toward ten o’clock they came in sight of Eagle Pass, where the surveyors had met Uncle Jeb the week previous when he was on his way down to Eagle City.

“Said they’d be here when I come back this way,” he remarked, “but I guess they hevn’t been able to git as fur as this yit.”

“I suppose not,” Mr. Temple said. “You don’t think by any chance we have missed them?”

“No, indeed,” replied Uncle Jeb. “Thar’s not a track o’ them anywheres!”

They finally came to a spot where a lake could be seen in the distance lying right in the center of the mountains.

Looking up, Mr. Temple noted two cliffs identical in appearance on either side of the lake.

“Twin Cliffs, I calls ’em,” explained Uncle Jeb. “Jes’ like twins excep’ thet the one has a hollow underneath. Regular nestin’ place fer eagles in the winter and sometimes in the summer. Durn good place to keep away frum.”

“I suppose so,” Mr. Temple agreed.

Suddenly Uncle Jeb’s eyes were fixed intently on the ground.

Then he pointed.

There was nothing so startling that Mr. Temple could see but a few small holes and some footprints here and there. Also, some blackened embers, evidently the remnants of campfires long since dead, that had been blown hither and thither by the mischievous summer breezes.

“What,” Mr. Temple asked, “would that signify?”

“Them surveyors,” Uncle Jeb replied with a rueful shake of his head. “They come as fur as here and they didn’t go back and they didn’t go on.”

He was now gazing significantly up a trail that led up to the hollow that he had previously pointed out.

“Do you think by any chance they were up there?” Mr. Temple asked anxiously.

“Dunno,” he replied, “I warned them not ter go, I know that! Thar’s been a little landslide here since I passed and thet would cover up the tracks--if thar wuz any.”

Mr. Temple looked and found that parts of the trail were indeed covered with sand and rock. Becoming alarmed he turned to Uncle Jeb searchingly.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Temple,” he said. “Yuh kin go up if yer want to, but I’m a-thinkin’ yuh won’t find nuthin.”

However, Uncle Jeb led the way up the trail and, needless to say, they searched, they shouted and in a frenzy Mr. Temple rushed to a trail that ran back of the cliff, but to his distraction soon realized that it became impassable after a few feet and finally obliterated itself in the impenetrable fastnesses of the deep mountain forest.

“And so your father went on to Mr. Rushmore’s cabin,” said Mrs. Temple.

“Didn’t he look in the hollow?” Mary breathlessly asked.

“Oh, yes, my dear.”

“Did he succeed with Mr. Ezra Knapp then?”

“No, it was all futile.”

“Why so, Mother?”

“He said he had changed his mind and refused to honor the agreement.”

“How perfectly mean!” Mary exclaimed. “But couldn’t Father hold him to it after making such a contract?”

“Assuredly in any other case, but you see this was different.”

“How so?”

“The agreement disappeared along with the surveyors!”