CHAPTER XII.
A CAMP IN THE MOUNTAINS -- Who climbed the blue Virginia hills Against embattled foes; And planted there, in valleys fair, The lily and the rose; Whose fragrance lives in many lands, Whose beauty stars the earth, And lights the hearths of happy homes With loveliness and worth.
-- Francis O.Ticknor.
The study of maps and time-tables is a far more profitable business than appears.

John Armitage possessed a great store of geographical knowledge as interpreted in such literature.

He could tell you, without leaving his room, and probably without opening his trunk, the quickest way out of Tokio, or St.Petersburg, or Calcutta, or Cinch Tight, Montana, if you suddenly received a cablegram calling you to Vienna or Paris or Washington from one of those places.
Such being the case, it was remarkable that he should have started for a point in the Virginia hills by way of Boston, thence to Norfolk by coastwise steamer, and on to Lamar by lines of railroad whose schedules would have been the despair of unhardened travelers.

He had expressed his trunks direct, and traveled with two suitcases and an umbrella.

His journey, since his boat swung out into Massachusetts Bay, had been spent in gloomy speculations, and two young women booked for Baltimore wrongly attributed his reticence and aloofness to a grievous disappointment in love.
He had wanted time to think--to ponder his affairs--to devise some way out of his difficulties, and to contrive the defeat of Chauvenet.
Moreover, his relations to the Claibornes were in an ugly tangle: Chauvenet had dealt him a telling blow in a quarter where he particularly wished to appear to advantage.
He jumped out of the day coach in which he had accomplished the last stage of his journey to Lamar, just at dawn, and found Oscar with two horses waiting.
"Good morning," said Oscar, saluting.
"You are prompt, Sergeant," and Armitage shook hands with him.
As the train roared on through the valley, Armitage opened one of the suit-cases and took out a pair of leather leggings, which he strapped on.
Then Oscar tied the cases together with a rope and hung them across his saddle-bow.
"The place--what of it ?" asked Armitage.
"There may be worse--I have not decided." Armitage laughed aloud.
"Is it as bad as that ?" The man was busy tightening the saddle girths, and he answered Armitage's further questions with soldierlike brevity.
"You have been here--" "Two weeks, sir." "And nothing has happened?
It is a good report." "It is good for the soul to stand on mountains and look at the world.