"Did you ever, Mr. Rhodes, notice anything unusual at that place?"
"Nothing whatever. I found the ascent of the rocks themselves rather difficult and the crevasses there interesting, but nothing more."
"Well, it was there," said Scranton, "that what I am going to read to you now took place. Yes, I know that it was there at the Tamahnowis Rocks, though I myself never could find anything there, either. And now, after all these long years, once more it is in that very spot that—"
He broke off abruptly and dropped his look to the old record.
Milton Rhodes leaned forward.
"Mr. Scranton," he asked, "what were you going to say?"
Scranton tapped the old journal with a forefinger.
"This first," he said. "Then that."
"The story begins to take shape," observed Milton Rhodes; and I wondered what on earth he meant. "Pray proceed."
Whereupon the other raised the book, cleared his throat with an ahem and started to read to us this astonishing record: