He could be heard shouting and cursing in the darkness for a full minute before he came striding into the shack.
"You little devils!" he shouted. "Next time you scream like that you'll wish you hadn't. Oh, how you'll wish you hadn't! How can a man get any rest when he can't hear himself think?"
"It wasn't me," Susan said. "It was Peter. If you saw what we saw you'd scream too, Mr. Caxton."
"Now wait a minute," Mr. Caxton said. "Stop right there. Before I listen to any of that you may as well know that screaming is a luxury you can't afford."
Susan refused to wait. "Peter saw what it was made the clawmarks," she said, defiantly. "I saw it too."
Mr. Caxton stood very still, looking at her. "Likely enough," he said, with derisive malice. "The clawmarks couldn't just stand alone. You have to work over a gnat to make it bring forth a mountain."
"It's true, Mr. Caxton," Peter corroborated. "We both saw it. It was all covered with feathers."
"One moment, boy!" Mr. Caxton rasped. "Exactly where was it standing when you saw it?"
"In the doorway," Peter said.
"In the doorway. How interesting. There's no animal life at all on Mars. But you saw a bird. How tall was it, boy?"