``Ah, I thought so.'' We all looked back. On the edge of the cliff, far upward, on which the ``blind Tiger'' sat was a gray horse, and on it was a man who, motionless, was looking down at us.
``He's been following you all the way,'' said the engineer.
``Who's been following us?'' I asked.
``That's Mart up there--my friend and yours,'' said Marston to the Blight. ``I'm rather glad I didn't meet you on the other side of the mountain--that's `the Wild Dog.' '' The Blight looked incredulous, but Marston knew the man and knew the horse.
So Mart--hard-working Mart--was the Wild Dog, and he was content to do the Blight all service without thanks, merely for the privilege of secretly seeing her face now and then; and yet he would not look upon that face when she was a guest under his roof and asleep.
Still, when we dropped behind the two girls I gave Marston the Hon. Sam's warning, and for a moment he looked rather grave.
``Well,'' he said, smiling, ``if I'm found in the road some day, you'll know who did it.''
I shook my head. ``Oh, no; he isn't that bad.''