Then with the skill of one born and reared in the woods, the mountaineer made his way toward the man on the shoulder of the hill.
What purpose lay under his strange movement Young Matt did not know.

But certainly it was not in his mind to harm Ollie.

He was acting upon the impulse of the moment; an impulse to get nearer and to study unobserved the person of his rival.

So he stalked him with all the instinct of a creature of the woods.

Not a twig snapped, not a leaf rustled, as from bush to fallen log, from tree trunk to rock, he crept, always in the black shadows, or behind some object.
But there were still other eyes on Old Dewey that night, and sharp ears heard the big woodsman climbing out of the ravine, if Ollie did not.