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"I want to hear it from you," Tony answered. "There's mighty little I can tell you. It's all mixed up to me. It wasn't that way with your mother and me. It was straight out dealing; no side-tracks and cross-tracks. We started right off the reel. I said to her " "Who is my mother?"
"In the Oregon forest," ventured somebody. "That's at the front, ain't it?" At that moment the lieutenant strode by. A long khaki muffler was thrown carelessly round his neck and hung down his back. "Look here, men," he said severely, "the orders are to stay in the cars." The men slunk back into the cars sullenly. A hospital train passed, clanking slowly over the cross-tracks.
They led direct to a side barranca. There the pursuers found the camp. It was deserted. Like a hound on the trail, Captain Funcke cast about him. "Here's where they came in. No yes this is it. Confound the cross-tracks!.. Here one of them cuts across the ridge to the tenaja for water. "Wait!... What's this? Coyote trail? Yes, but... Trail brushed over, by thunder!
At four cross-tracks, instead of sign-posts, heaps of stones, cairns, are to be found, placed in such a way as to indicate the direction in which the next saint's tomb lies.
It was new-roofed soon after the discovery of America, and, perhaps, done up to some show of decency and comfort. But how small and rude the pulpit and pews looking like rough-boarded potato-bins! Here is the great banquet-hall, full to overflowing with the tracks and cross-tracks of that wild, strange life of old.
It happened to be a particularly hard day on hounds because of old tracks and cross-tracks and difficult ground. Fox worked out a labyrinthine trail that Sampson gave up and Jim failed on. This delighted Wade, and that night he tried to find out from Andrews, who sold the dog to Belllounds, something about Fox.
It was new-roofed soon after the discovery of America, and perhaps done up to some show of decency and comfort. But how small and rude the pulpit and pews looking like rough- boarded potato-bins! Here is the great banquet-hall, full to overflowing with the tracks and cross-tracks of that wild, strange life of old.
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