Jackson Gregory

“ He looked the part of a man who had never had a sick day in his life. He was not here because the doctors had sent him. He was a man of culture, a man who had traveled and seen much of the world. He loved his daughter. Why, then, had he suffered this long exile? Why had he made her endure it?
These matters rose above other considerations in Farley's mind. And in the end he saw no way of arriving at any kind of certainty until he had gone back to pick up the old trail; until he had found the horses: until he had seen if Dalton's tracks led to them and back from them to the cabin. ”

“ If the trail he was following led on to the lake, to Dalton's cabin, the thing was clear enough.
Down the long slope of the mountainside from the clearing, into the rocky bed of the ravine, the only logical way for a man to follow, and out into a miniature valley below, he continued without looking for the tracks which he knew the hard, broken ground would not show had he looked. ”

“ To follow the trail left by two horses was comparatively simple. To track a man over these mountains, across hard ground and dry gully, was another matter.
It was certain that the man Dalton, or a possible other, had not gone back over the same trail. It was devious, turning aside for steep cañons which a horse could not climb but which a man could, full of many twists and turns. A man on foot would take a shorter way. ”