to be seen. Ah, he now turns
from the houses and into the fields! We shall be able to follow him. The
moon is our friend. It is pouring down rays enough to disclose his
trail, if trail he leaves."

They were soon beyond the houses and climbed three fences dividing the
fields. At the third, Tayoga said:

"Garay paused here and rested. There is a drop of blood on the top rail.
He probably sat there and looked back to see if he was followed. Ah,
here is a splinter on a lower rail freshly broken!"

"What do you make of it, Tayoga?"

"The spy was angry, angry that his effort, made at such great risk,
should have failed through the mere chance of your coming into the room
at that particular time. He was angry, too, that he had bruised his hand
so badly that it bled, and continued to bleed. So, his disappointment
made him grind his heel against the rail and break the splinter."

"I'm glad he felt that way. A man in his trade ought to suffer many
disappointments."

"When he had satisfied himself that no pursuit was in sight, he jumped
to the ground. Here are deep imprints made by his descending weight, and
now he becomes less careful. Albany is behind us, and he thinks all
danger of pursuit has passed. I see a little brook ahead, and it is safe
to say that he will kneel at it and drink."

"And also to bathe his wounded hand."

"Even so, Dagaeoga. Lo, it is as we said! Here are the imprints of his
knees, showing that he refreshed himself with water after his hurried
flight. The ground on the other side of the brook is soft and we shall
be able to find his imprints there, even if it were pitch dark. Now I
think they will turn very soon toward the river."

"Yes, they're curving. Here they go, Tayoga."

The trail led across a field, over a hill, and then through a little
wood, where Tayoga was compelled to go slowly, hunting about like a
hound, trying to trace a scent. But wherever he lost it he finally
picked it up again, and, when they emerged from the trees, they saw the
river not far ahead.

"Our trail will end at the stream," said Tayoga confidently.

As he had predicted, the imprints led directly to the river, and there
ended their pursuit also. The Hudson flowed on in silence. There was
nothing on its bosom.

"The slaver in a boat was waiting for him here," said Tayoga. "I think
we can soon find proof of it."

A brief examination of the bank showed traces where the prow had rested.

"It was probably a boat