know you are glad to have me out of the way at last!"




XVII


THE HIDDEN TRAIL

Because they had set forth on a grim and sorrowful quest, it need not be
supposed that Paul and Moya were a pair of sorrowful pilgrims. It was
their wedding journey. At the outset Moya had said: "We are doing the best
we know. For what we don't know, let us leave it and not brood."

They did not enter at once upon the more eccentric stages of the search.
They went by way of the Great Northern to Portland, descending from snow
to roses and drenching rains. At Pendleton, which is at the junction of
three great roads, Paul sent tracers out through express agents and train
officials along the remotest slender feeders of these lines. Through the
same agents it was made known that for any service rendered or expense
incurred on behalf of the person described, his friends would hold
themselves gratefully responsible.

At Portland, Paul searched the steamer lists and left confidential orders
in the different transportation offices; and Moya wrote to his mother--a
woman's letter, every page shining with happiness and as free from
apparent forethought as a running brook.

They returned by the Great Northern and Lake Coeur d'Alene, stopping over