Here
the path was beaten into soft mud and as Bridge came
to it he stopped and bent his gaze incredulously upon
the ground. The girl and the youth, halting upon either
side, followed the direction of his eyes with theirs. The
girl gave a little, involuntary gasp, and the boy grasped
Bridge's hand as though fearful of losing him. The man
turned a quizzical glance at each of them and smiled,
though a bit ruefully.
"It beats me," he said.
"What can it be?" whispered the boy.
"Oh, let's go back," begged the girl.
"And go along to father with Burton?" asked Bridge.
The girl trembled and shook her head. "I would rather
die," she said, firmly. "Come, let's go on."
The cause of their perturbation was imprinted deeply
in the mud of the pathway--the irregular outlines of an
enormous, naked, human foot--a great, uncouth foot that
bespoke a monster of another world. While, still more
uncanny, in view of what they had heard in the farm
house during the previous night, there lay, sometimes
partially obliterated by the footprints of the THING,
the impress of a small, bare foot--a woman's or a child's
--and over both an irregular scoring that might have
been wrought by a dragging chain!
In the loft of his father's hay barn Willie Case delved
deep into the small red-covered volume, HOW TO BE
A DETECTIVE; but though he turned many pages and
flitted to and fro from preface to conclusion he met only
with disappointment.
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