This novel was written in 1910. It begins: Late one fall afternoon, in the year 1898, a train paused for a moment before crossing a bridge over a river. From it descended a heavyset, elderly man. The train immediately proceeded on its way. The heavyset man looked about him. The river and the bottom-land growths of willow and hardwood were hemmed in, as far as he could see, by low-wooded hills. Only the railroad bridge, the steep embankment of the right-of-way, and a small, painted, windowless structure next the water met his eye as the handiwork of man. The windowless structure was bleak, deserted and obviously locked by a strong padlock and hasp. Nevertheless, the man, throwing on his shoulder a canvas duffle-bag with handles, made his way down the steep railway embankment, across a plank over the ditch, and to the edge of the water. Here he dropped his bag heavily, and looked about him with an air of comical dismay. See other titles by this author available from Kessinger Publishing.