It was really in the direction of the near-by swamp that they now commenced to look. The wisdom of Elmer's figuring was soon made manifest, for they quickly ran across what they were looking for.
"Here you are," said Elmer, "and now get busy, Landy."
"Yes, drop down on your marrow-bones and see what you make of the footprints," Lil Artha told the fat scout.
Now Landy had had fair training in certain kinds of work associated with scout-craft. He had even taken numerous lessons in following a trail, though giving poor promise of ever being a shining light in that respect.
"Please hold the lantern closer, Johnny," he said, as he thrust his nose down near the ground; "yes, here's a footprint as clear as anybody'd want to see; and I sure ought to know the person who made the same."
"Tell us why, Landy?" asked Elmer, with a pleased smile.
"That's an easy thing to do, Elmer. You see that diagonal mark across the toe of this impression—well, that's caused by a patch on the left shoe. All right, Hen Condit had just such a patch put on his shoe a week ago last Saturday."
"You know that for a fact, do you, Landy?" questioned the patrol leader, who did not want any guessing about this business.
"Why, I sat there all the time the cobbler was working at the same, having accompanied Hen to the shoemaker's shop," continued Landy. "What's more I joshed him about the fine and dandy track he made every time he stepped in some half-hard mud that day after he left the shop. Oh! I'm as sure of this footprint as I am that my name's Landy Smith."
"Well, then, we've had double evidence," spoke up Ted Burgoyne; "and I gueth that ought to thettle the matter. Ith our Hen that was dragged up by the heelth. Elmer, will it pay uth to try and follow the trail?"