"He's my eyes, Joe. Kent's car?"
"No, sir; a telephone truck. I don't see his car."
"Not back yet," said the doctor, and whistled soundlessly. They roamed
the grounds. The dog at a rapid pace, took the man along one side of the
house and deftly manoeuvered him around every tree and bush. In the rear
a maid hung a sodden garment on the line and, after a frightened glance
at them, disappeared into the house. The wind blew across the valley and
the wet sleeve of a coat fluttered and swung toward Dr. Stone's face. He
reached out a groping hand, and found the sleeve, and brought it close to
his sightless eyes as though trying to pierce a veil of darkness and make
out the pattern. Bees droned through a blooming lilac and they moved
around to the other side of the house.
"Joe, is there a pine tree on the place?"
Pin pricks ran along the boy's spine. His uncle had never been here
before--how did he know about the tree? "Yes, sir."
"A large tree, heavy-branched?"
"Yes, sir."
"Take me there. Lady, forward."
The cane explored the trunk and then slowly tapped the ground.
"About six feet from the house, Joe?"