XII—A DISCOVERY
We all just stood there not knowing what to think. I could tell that Tom Slade had some kind of an idea, but you never catch that fellow shouting out about anything till he’s sure. Even when he was a tenderfoot in the troop he was that way.
It seemed mighty funny that we should find just one footprint in those bushes, but maybe there weren’t any more across that open space because it was hard and rocky. Anyway, the scent led out into that open space, that was sure. Then on the opposite side of the open space the bushes were broken and there was a rag hanging to one of them. Yet we couldn’t get that dog to go all the way across and take up the scent where we found the rag. That was the funny thing. It was funny that there weren’t any footprints under those bushes where the rag was hanging, too. Believe me, Pee-wee was right, it was a mystery.
Pretty soon the dog began following the scent back and Will Dawson went after him. In about ten minutes he came up again and said that the dog had followed it as far as a brook where there was a willow tree. He said the dog got rattled there just the same as he did on the summit. So he studied the place carefully and saw that there was a branch of the tree that stuck out over the water and he swung himself across and then back again by that. So he decided that was probably what the man had done on his way up the mountain. So you see that trail was cut in two places.
Will said that he left the dog poking around at the edge of the stream. And that was the last we saw of the dog till we got back to our caravan. Then we saw that he was under the van asleep. He was resting up so he could chase Eliza in the afternoon, that’s what Brent said. He chased Eliza twice every day, that bloodhound did.
Harry said, “Well, as Scout Harris says, it’s a mystery. Somebody was up here before us, that’s sure. There’s no use trying to dope it out, I suppose. Let’s send the signal. Our friends down below will think we’re lost.”
All the while Tom Slade was sort of wandering around that rocky open space on the top of the mountain. A couple of times he looked over to where we were as if he was kind of thinking. Most of the time he looked at the ground and the flat rocks. I knew he had some idea in his head, all right.
Pretty soon he came strolling over and said sort of offhand like, “Let’s follow these broken bushes in a ways.”
“Nobody went through here, Tom,” Rossie said; “if they had there’d be footprints. Let’s get busy with the smudge signal.”
“It’ll only take a minute,” Tom said.
“Every minute is precious, Tommy boy,” Harry told him.
“Sure, let’s go in,” Brent said; “I’m for adventure every time. You never can tell; come ahead.”
So we all followed Tom in. The brush was awful thick and I kept tearing it apart down near the ground, hunting for footprints, but I couldn’t find a single one. The brush wasn’t even broken above, either, after we had gone a few feet and Tom just pushed around without any signs to go by, all the while squinting his eyes into the bushes and poking the underbrush with his feet.
Pretty soon, good night, Pee-wee gave a shout. “I see it! I see it!” he yelled. “The mystery is solved! I know why there isn’t any man’s footprint here. It was an animal that came through! There he is now—it’s a zebra!”
“A which?” Harry said.
“It’s got stripes—wide stripes,” the kid shouted. “Look there! See it? It’s a zebra! Don’t you know a zebra?”
Brent said, “I wouldn’t know one if I met him in the street.”
By that time Tom had gone ahead of us and hauled something out of the bushes. It wasn’t a zebra, but it had stripes all right—it was light colored and it had wide, dark stripes. I bet you can’t guess what it was, either.
It was a suit of convicts’ clothes.