“And I don’t calculate, now,” said Giraffe, presently, “that Hank and Pierre are the kind of men to step out of their way ten feet to do a good deed, ’specially toward a boy they’d never yet seen?”
“Well, they didn’t impress me that way,” declared Thad.
“And they haven’t much of a reputation for being tenderhearted, I believe,” Allan added, speaking over his shoulder, for he was following the trail persistently.
But then, even a novice could have kept on that trail. None of the three who made it seemed to think anything about hiding their tracks.
Those of Bumpus in particular were plainly marked, and presently Giraffe began to notice this patent fact.
“There seems to be a big difference in these footprints,” he said.
“There certainly is,” Allan replied.
“Now, I don’t mean it that way, because of course Bumpus hasn’t got feet anywhere near as big as those of Hank and Pierre. But always it’s the same, and his footprints look deeper than theirs. But for all he’s so fat, sure Bumpus can’t be heavier than either of those big broad shouldered husky men?”
Giraffe seemed to realize that there must be an explanation which would clear up this little mystery, and he wanted it.
“That isn’t what makes the difference, Giraffe,” the tracker went on. “You know, we decided that Bumpus went along here right soon after the storm yesterday afternoon, and while the ground was still soft?”