upon which he was traveling. It wound up the slope, grass-grown in many places, as though very few feet had trodden it in the past year. It was built of stone and gravel, well built too, as he could easily perceive, for it mounted the hillside in easy grades with wide, even curves, and it still showed the weed-filled ditches that had been dug to drain it and it spanned a little stream on a high, stout bridge. Hugh tramped on up the slope, crossed the summit of the hill and was about to descend on the other side when—
“Oh!” he cried suddenly and stood still in surprise.
He had known that the road would not carry him far, but he had not realized that it would end as abruptly as though sheared off with a knife. The dense wall of trees and underbrush that had hemmed it in on both sides had closed together before him and completely blocked the way. He could actually see the sharp line where the gravel roadbed ended and the soft leaf-mold began, while just before him he spied in the grass a broken ax and a rusty pick, as though the last
