What's next beyond Ben's house?"
"A half mile further on you come to Hungry Creek. It ain't much in the
middle of summer, but right now it's full of cold water, 'nough of it to
come right up to your hoss's body. You go through it keerful."
"Thank you for your good advice," said Dick. "I'll follow it, too.
Good-bye."
He waved his gauntleted hand and rode on. A hundred yards further and
he glanced back. The boy had stopped on the crest of a hill, and was
looking at him. But Dick knew that it was only the natural curiosity of
the hills and he renewed his journey without apprehension.
At the appointed time he saw the stout log cabin of Ben Trimble by the
roadside with the warm smoke rising from the chimney, but true to his
word he gave Ben and his shotgun no trouble, and continued straight
ahead over the frozen road until he came to the banks of Hungry Creek.
Here, too, the words of the boy came true. The water was both deep and
cold, and Dick looked at it doubtfully.
He urged his great horse into the stream at last, and it appeared that
the creek had risen somewhat since the boy had last seen it. In the
middle the horse was compelled to swim, but it was no task for such a
powerful animal, and Dick, holding his feet high, came dry to the shore
that he sought.
The road led on through high hills, covered with oak and beech and cedar
and pine, all the deciduous trees bare of leaves, their boughs rustling
dryly whenever the wind blew.
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