there, I'll risk the rest."

The road was not an easy one. It was not very smooth, and grew more
stony and rutty as he proceeded, and there was a sharp climb for the
horse as they reached a hilly landscape.

Bart halted finally. A road branched to the left. It did not look very
inviting, nor did it seem to be much in use, but as it led away from the
main highway, it broke the trail, and without hesitation he turned the
horse's head in the direction of Clyde Station.

The country was open here, all rocks, gullies and pits. He was surprised
to observe how little distance he had really put between himself and the
Tolliver camp as the road wound out along the crest of a hill.

He jumped out to lighten the load and coax up the horse. Then he stood
stock-still, straining his eyes across the valley.

"I declare!" said Bart in a tone of profound concern, "I got away just
in time, but if that is Lem Wacker, he has appeared on the scene just
ten minutes too soon to suit me."

Over at the break in the woods a man had appeared from the direction of
Millville. He was waving a hand, and then placing it to his mouth as
though hailing someone, probably the Tollivers at the camp.

Then he turned straight around. If Bart could read anything at that
distance, he could certainly trace that the man was looking fixedly at
the red wagon, and the white horse, and himself.

If it was Lem Wacker--and Bart believed that it was--just one thing was
in order: to get that trunk to some town, to some station, to some
friendly farmhouse, in hiding anywhere, before the pursuit, sure to
follow, was started.

Bart ran on, with a last glance at the lone distant figure. He could not
afford to wait to see if the Tollivers joined it. Every minute was
precious.

"Where is the horse?" exclaimed Bart.

Dobbin had "got up." While Bart was surveying the landscape, the old
animal had plodded on, and was now out of sight.

Bart ran along the road. It turned between two walls of slate. Then came
the open again. Here the road descended somewhat. The horse stood at a
halt. He had run easily a few rods, one wheel had struck a deep rut, and
the wagon had broken down. It lay tilted over on one side, one wheel
completely caved in.

Bart was dismayed. He reflected for a moment, and then followed the road
ahead for about a hundred feet.

It turned through some slate heaps, lined the side of a deep
excavation, and came to an abrupt end where some boards, plac