thar," said the old
woman cautiously, "ye'd be killed outer hand afore ye even set eyes on
the girl. The house is in a holler with hills kept by spies; ye'd be a
dead man as soon as ye crossed its boundary."

"Wot do YOU know about it?" interrupted her husband quickly, in
querulous warning. "Wot are ye talkin' about?"

"You leave me alone, Hiram! I ain't goin' to let that young feller
get popped off without a show, or without knowin' jest wot he's got to
tackle, nohow ye kin fix it! And can't ye see he's bound to go, whatever
ye says?"

Mr. Tarbox saw this fact plainly in Brice's eyes, and hesitated.

"The most that I kin tell ye," he said gloomily, "is the way the gal
takes when she goes from here, but how far it is, or if it ain't a
blind, I can't swar, for I hevn't bin thar myself, and Harry never comes
here but on an off night, when the coach ain't runnin' and thar's no
travel." He stopped suddenly and uneasily, as if he had said too much.

"Thar ye go, Hiram, and ye talk of others gabblin'! So ye might as well
tell the young feller how that thar ain't but one way, and that's the
way Harry takes, too, when he comes yer oncet in an age to talk to his
own flesh and blood, and see a Christian face that ain't agin him!"

Mr. Tarbox was silent. "Ye know whar the tree was thrown down on the
road," he said at last.

"Yes."

"The mountain rises straight up on the right side of the road, all hazel
brush and thorn--whar a goat couldn't climb."

"Yes."

"But that's a lie! for thar's a little trail, not a foot wide, runs up
from the road for a mile, keepin' it in view all the while, but bein'
hidden by the brush. Ye kin see everything from thar, and hear a
teamster spit on the road."

"Go on," said Brice impatiently.

"Then it goes up and over the ridge, and down the other side into a
little gulch until it comes to the canyon of the North Fork, where the
stage road crosses over the bridge high up. The trail winds round the
bank of the Fork and comes out on the LEFT side of the stage road about
a thousand feet below it. That's the valley and hollow whar Harry lives,
and that's the only way it can be found. For all along the LEFT of the
stage road is a sheer pitch down that thousand feet, whar no one kin git
up or down."

"I understand," said Brice, with sparkling eyes. "I'll find my way all
right."

"And when ye git thar, look out for yourself!" put in the woman
earnestly. "Ye may have regular greenhorn's luc