All that Brent could find to say was, “This is too much for me!” And he
went to the fireplace to thaw out.
After we’d slipped into dry clothes and had something hot to drink we
demanded an explanation from Tom.
“Why, I got back here right after you left,” he explained. “In fact, I
could hear the echo of the flivver from the woods as I got to the Lodge.
I thought you fellows had taken a notion to go to Harkness. In fact, I
didn’t think about it again until I saw Brent passing the window. I was
reading here alone. That’s why I didn’t bother getting up to open the
door. Thought you were old enough to do it yourselves.” He laughed
heartily.
“Come on, Tomasso!” Brent pleaded. “Give an account of your wanderings.
We deserve to hear it after ours.”
“To begin with,” Tom said, “I set straight out, intending to follow up,
if I could, the scarred footprint.”
“He sounds like Sherlock Holmes,” said Brent, poking a log into the
flames. Tom took no notice of the interruption.
“At first I didn’t fare very well in that direction. Too much
undergrowth. But, around noontime, up on the second slope, I discovered
some soft moss under a huge tree. And I saw some footprints. Of an
animal.
“I got curious and looked on further. No sign of any more. So after a
while I went on back to the tree and tore up some weeds just beyond it.
Found more footprints of the same animal and followed them on down the
slope.
“And along with the animal’s tracks, sometimes a little ahead or just
beside them; sometimes a trifle back--was the _scarred footprint!_”
“This is interesting,” I murmured. “Go on.”
“I followed it carefully. Every little way I stopped and examined the
ground where it seemed to be soft. I’d find them together most every
time--the human, bare footprints that had sunken in the soft ground
under the frail weeds and those of the animal.
“Oh, I was pretty much convinced. But I wanted to make sure and when I
got through fussing around, it was six o’clock.
“I took enough grub with me so I sat down and finished what I had left
from noon. About that time the sun was setting. Somehow, it gave me a
hunch to stick around.
“Well, I looked around and found myself a nice perch up in a tree
overlooking the rocks and the camp. It wasn’t long after dark that the
moon made a feeble effort to come through the clouds. It had quite a
ring around it last night, if you remember; still there was enough light
for me to see the rocks and a little beyond.
“I waited patiently and was soon rewarded for my pains, with a nervous
chill. Our friend, the lynx, was howling gaily on the slope above me.
With each howl the echo came nearer and nearer until it almost deafened
me. Finally it ceased, and I could hear quite plainly in the stark
silence that followed, a crackle of dry twigs and soft footfalls coming
toward me.”
“Whew!” Brent exclaimed.
“I was cramped,” Tom went on. “My rigid position was beginning to get on
my nerves. I was about to shift a little when I heard the soft whisper
of a man’s voice right near me. Gosh what a scare!
“I felt I had been sitting there for days, when I heard the voice again,
and looking down saw something pass under the tree and on down through
the rocks in the direction of the camp.”
“What was it?” Brent asked.
“A terribly emaciated looking man. Just like a hermit you read about and
have never seen. Long beard and hair; rags for clothes and barefoot. And
with him--walking alongside like a pet dog--was _the lynx_! Absolutely!”
[Illustration: WALKING ALONG LIKE A PET DOG--WAS THE LYNX!]
“Almost incredible!” I exclaimed.
“I knew you’d hardly believe it,” Tom protested. “But I saw it with my
own eyes! And besides, I got down out of the tree after they were well
out of sight and examined the ground with my flashlight. The footprints
were there all right. Both man’s and beast’s.”
“What next?” Brent queried.
“I decided that as long as I had seen that much, I might as well wait
for the finish. Not that alone, but I was afraid if I started for camp I
might meet the queer looking couple on the way. And I didn’t relish the
thought of that unarmed.
“I stretched myself, took a little stroll around the tree; then resumed
my former position and waited for their return. It was difficult to keep
my eyes open, but I managed to watch pretty steadily. It was some long
night, I can tell you, and I was mighty cold besides. The first sight of
dawn was pretty welcome.”
“And your friends?” I asked, eagerly.
“You have me there,” Tom answered. “They didn’t come back.”