Perched in his tree securely, and shrouded from sight among
its boughs, the urchin disengaged the rock from his shoulders, took it
in both his hands, and carefully selecting its route, he pitched it,
with all his might, out from the tree, and in such a direction, that,
after it had fairly struck the earth, it continued a rolling course down
the declivity of the rocks, making a heavy clatter all the way it went.
The _ruse_ answered its purpose. The keen senses of the outlaw caught
the sound. His vigilance, now doubly keen, awakened to its watch. We
have seen, in previous pages, the effect that the rolling stone had upon
the musing and vexed spirit of Guy Rivers, after the departure of
Dillon. He came forth, as we have seen, to look about for the cause of
alarm; and, as if satisfied that the disturbance was purely accidental,
had retired once more to the recesses of his den.
Here, throwing himself upon his couch, he seemed disposed to sleep.
Sleep, indeed! He himself denied that he ever slept.
Pages:
859
860
861
862
863
864
865
866
867
868
869
870
871
872
873
874
875
876
877
878
879
880
881
882
883