FOLLOWING ANOTHER TRAIL
After all the activities of the forenoon both by the older boys and
girls of the vacation party at Red Deer Lodge, and by the children as
well, the soft snow was considerably marked up by footprints around
the premises.
Ike M'Graw and Neale O'Neil, searching for prints of the feet of those
who they thought had left the vicinity of the house early that
morning, struck directly off for the edge of the clearing.
"The best we can do," M'Graw declared, "is to follow the line of the
woods clean around the clearing. Somewhere, whoever 'tis got that fox
and lifted the canned goods, must have struck into the woods. They
ain't hidin' in the barns or anywhere here. I've been searchin' them.
That's certain."
Neale had very bright eyes, and not much could escape them; but the
snow was coming down fast now and even he could not distinguish marks
many yards ahead.
Here and there they beheld footprints; but always examination proved
them to be of somebody who belonged at the Lodge. The prints in the
snow Luke and his sister and Ruth had made soon after breakfast fooled
Neale for a moment, but not for long.
They saw the woodsman's big prints, too, where he had been looking for
the marks of the fox hunter. There were the marks Neale himself and
Agnes had made when they had followed the "deer."
All these various marks bothered the searchers; and all the time, too,
the snow was falling and making the identification of the various
prints of feet the more difficult.
"This here's worse than nailing the animals that they say went into
the ark that time Noah set sail for Ararat," declared Ike, chuckling.
"Whoever followed them critters up to the gangplank must have been
some mixed up--
"Hello! What's this?"
They had come around behind the sheds. Here was the entrance to the
road on which Neale and Luke with the three older girls had coasted
that forenoon. The woodsman was pointing to marks in the snow, now
being rapidly filled in. Neale said:
"Oh, we were sliding on this hill, you know."
"Uh-huh? Who was?"
"Five of us. With a big bobsled."
"Now, you don't tell me that bobsled made them marks," interposed the
old man. "I know that bobsled."
"Why--I--"
"Them runner marks was made by little Ralph Birdsall's scootin' sled.
I know that, too. Who's gone up to slide this afternoon?"
"That must be the kids!" exclaimed Neale. "I wonder if Ruth knows they
are out here playing! I remember now I didn't see them at the front of
the house."
"You don't suppose they've gone far?"
"Oh, I guess they will come to no harm around here. Ruth would not let
them go away from the Lodge to play."
"Humph!" muttered the old man.
But he went on. There was really no reason for Neale to be worried
about the children. They were almost always well behaved. At least,
they seldom disobeyed.
Besides, it was only a few minutes later when Mr. Howbridge, well
muffled against the storm, appeared with Tom Jonah on a leash. The old
woodsman had just got down on his knees in the snow to examine two
lines of faint impressions that left the path John's footprints had
made to the farther shed.
"Now, what's this? A deer jumped out here--or what?"
Neale waited and Mr. Howbridge held the dog back. Ike got up and
followed the half-filled impressions a little farther. They headed
directly for the thicker woods to the north of the Lodge premises.
"Might have been feet--small feet. And two sets of 'em," said Ike.
"Hi, Mister! did you find anything up in that closet belongin' to the
twins?"
"Here is a pair of bed slippers. Knitted ones. They are much too small
for a grown person," the lawyer declared.
M'Graw took the articles thoughtfully into his big hands. "Humph! Look
like little Missie's slippers. Certainly do. Roweny, you know. Wonder
if this old dog knows anything."
He offered the slippers to Tom Jonah to sniff. The dog had been used
to following a scent in times past; often they would send him after
Dot or Tess or Sammy. He snuffed eagerly at the knitted shoes.
"Don't know how strong the scent is on 'em. It's been some time,
p'r'aps, since little Roweny wore 'em. But--"
Tom Jonah whined, sniffed again, and then lifted up his muzzle and
barked, straining at the leash.
"Looks like he understands," said the old man, reaching for the leash
and taking the bight of it from Mr. Howbridge's hand. "Good dog! Now,
go to it. These here footprints--if that's what they are--are fillin'
in fast."
Tom Jonah put his nose to the marks in the snow. He sniffed, threw
some of the light snow about with his nose, and started off. He
followed the faint trail into the woods. But Neale doubted if the dog
followed by scent.
Once, in the thicket the marks were only visible here and there. The
fresh snow was sifting down faster and faster. The dog leaped from one
spot to another, whining, and eagerly seeking to pick up the scent.
"It's awful unlucky this here snow commenced as it has. Hi! I don't
see what we can do," sighed Ike.
"Do you really believe those marks were the twins' footsteps?"
"I do. I believe they was in the house when your folks came, Mr.
Howbridge," M'Graw said. "But now--"
Tom Jonah halted, threw up his shaggy head, and howled mournfully.
"Oh, don't, Tom Jonah!" cried Neale O'Neil. "It sounds like--like
somebody was dead!"
"Or lost, eh?" suggested Ike. "Ain't no use. He--nor a better
dog--couldn't follow a scent through such snow. We're too late. But
I'd like to know where them children went, if these is them!"
They turned back toward the Lodge, rather disheartened. If the two
Birdsall children, who had been left to the care of Mr. Howbridge,
were really up here alone in the wilderness--and perhaps shelterless
at this time--what might not happen to them? What would be the end of
this strange and menacing situation?
Nobody spoke after M'Graw expressed himself until they came to the
path on which they had previously seen the marks of the small sled and
the footprints of Sammy and the two youngest Corner House girls. These
traces were now entirely obliterated. It was snowing heavily and the
wind was rising.
"Hi gorry!" ejaculated the old woodsman, "how about those other
children? Are they at home where they ought to be?"
"Whom do you mean?" asked the lawyer, rather startled.
But Neale understood. He looked sharply about. Not an impression in
the snow but that of their own feet was visible.
"I'll go and see if the sled is returned to the place they got it
from," he said, and dashed away to the shed.
Before Mr. Howbridge and M'Graw had reached the Lodge Neale O'Neil
came tearing after them.
"Oh, wait! Wait!" he shouted. "They haven't come back with the sled.
What do you suppose can have happened to Sammy and Tess and Dot?"