gin's note to a
rendezvous at Lone Tree. Probably that was the spot where the two had
been accustomed to meeting. If true in the past, why not now as well?
Suddenly it occurred to me that it was at a place called Lone Tree that
the minute men had gathered for their attack on Delavan's wagon train.
Could this, by any possibility, be the same spot? I drew my horse back
beside Conroy.

"Ever heard of a place called Lone Tree?" I asked quietly.

He rubbed his head thoughtfully.

"Not just about here, sir. We camped over east of there once, maybe a
year ago, down in a hollow where there was one big tree standin' all
alone, kind of an odd lookin' tree, sir, and seems to me, the guide said
the place was called something like that. Say, Tom," to the nearest
Dragoon, "do you remember that Lone Tree where we camped when we were out
huntin' Tarleton?"

"Sure; in east of Medford. There was a farmhouse across on the side of a
hill. I got some buttermilk there."

"Wasn't that what the guide called the place--Lone Tree?"

"Derned if I know, Sergeant. Don't recollect hearin' the guide say
anythin' 'bout that, but the woman at the house told me her place was
called Lone Tree Cottage--so I reckon he might."

This was a chance worth trying, and would require a detour of but a few
miles. My decision was made quickly.

"We will take the first turn to the left, and have a look at the place,"
I said. "Conroy, you and Tom ride ahead, and keep your eyes open."

We reached the hollow where the big tree stood, about midnight, but found
little reward. The house on the hill had been burned to the ground. Near
the tree, however, we discovered evidence of recent camp-fires, one not
yet cold, and apparently there had been quite a body of men camped there
lately. Conroy manufactured a torch, and scouted about, finally
reporting:

"I don't know how many were here, sir, altogether, but there was a lot o'
horses picketed over near the creek. I reckon the last of them didn't
leave until dark to-night, an' they rode north toward the main road.
There was maybe a dozen in that party."

We followed the general direction the fellows seemed to have taken,
Conroy and I on foot, scanning the trail by aid of a pine knot. The dust
lay thick on the clay road through the cut, where we had charged the
foragers, and it was easy to see the band had turned east. There was but
one conclusion possible; if this was Fagin's gang of cutthroats, as I
suspected, th