It's all
right for the doctor, of course; but--let me out!"
Meanwhile the two women on Sanus, taking the utmost care, managed to
retreat from the river bank without being discovered. Keeping their eyes
very wide open and their ears strained for the slightest buzz, the two
contrived to pass through the village, out into the fields, and thence,
from cover to cover, into the foothills on that side of the valley where
their lovers had found the pyrites.
"If only we knew which stream they ascended!" lamented Cunora, as they
stood in indecision before a fork in the river.
"But we don't!" Rolla pointed out philosophically. "We must trust to
luck and Mownoth, ye and I."
And despite all the effort the doctor could put forth to the contrary,
the two women picked out the wrong branch. They searched as diligently
as two people possibly could; but somehow the doctor knew, just because
of the wrong choice that had been made, that their search would be
unsuccessful. He thought the matter over for a few moments, and finally
admitted to his three friends:
"I wonder if I haven't been a little silly? Why should I have been so
precious specific in impressing Rolla about the pyrites? Pshaw! Almost
any hard rock will strike sparks from flint!"
"Why, of course!" exploded Van Emmon.
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