he mountain people, that information
concerning Gray Stoddard within a week of his disappearance, was
noticeably lacking. Nobody would admit that his had been a familiar
figure on those roads. At the utmost they had "seed him a good deal a
while ago, but he'd sorter quit riding up this-a-way of late." But on no
road could there be found man, woman, or child who had seen Gray
Stoddard riding Friday morning on his roan horse. The whole outlying
district seemed to be in a conspiracy of silence.

In Watauga and in Cottonville itself, clues were found by the police,
followed up and proved worthless. All Gray's Eastern connections were
immediately communicated with by telegraph, in the forlorn hope of
finding some internal clue. The business men in charge of his large
Eastern interests answered promptly that nothing from recent
correspondence with him pointed to any intention on his part of making a
journey or otherwise changing his ordinary way of living. They added
urgent admonitions to Mr. MacPherson to have locked up in the Company's
safe various important papers which they had sent, at Stoddard's
request, for signature, and which they supposed from the date, must be
lying with his other mail. A boyhood friend telegraphed his intention of
coming down from Massachusetts and joining the searchers. Stoddard had
no near relatives. A grand-aunt, living in Boston, telegraphed to Mr.
Hardwick to see that money be spent freely.

Meantime there was reason for Johnnie Consadine, shut in the little
sister's sick room day and night, to hear nothing of these matters.
Lissy had been allowed to help wait upon the injured child only on
promise that nothing exciting should be mentioned. Both boys had
instantly begged to join a searching party, Milo insisting that he could
work all night and search all day, and that nobody should complain that
he neglected his job. Pony, being refused, had run away; Milo the
rulable followed to get him to return; and by Sunday night Mavity was
feeding both boys from the back door and keeping them out of sight of
Pap's vengeance. Considering that Johnnie had trouble enough, she
cautioned everybody on the place to say nothing of these matters to the
girl. Mandy, a feeble, unsound creature at best, was more severely
injured than had been thought. She was confined to her bed for days. Pap
went about somewhat like a whipped dog, spoke little on any subject, and
tolerated no mention of the topic of the day in C