THE RIDER OF THE BLACK HORSE
CHAPTER I
ON THE SHORE OF THE HUDSON
The June day was near its close, and already the shadows of the great hills were lengthening as they were reflected in the waters of the lordly Hudson. Almost like glass the river itself extended, so quiet was the air and so still were the wooded shores. The heat of midday was no longer felt, but the oncoming night promised only a measure of relief, for the air was still sultry and the few thunderheads that had been banked low in the western sky had been scattered, and the heavens were now apparently cloudless.
Not far back from the western bank of the Hudson, a young man, apparently about nineteen years of age, on horseback, was following the rough roadway or path that led to the shore. Both his own appearance and that of the horse which he was riding indicated a weariness that the stalwart and muscular frame
