Peterson, the new-comer, whispered satirically in Ferguson’s ear:
“Wonderful performance to find this place, wasn’t it? Hardly worth while to come so far, though; any other supposititious place would have answered just as well—hey?”
Ferguson was not pleased with the innuendo. He said, with some warmth,
“Do you mean to insinuate that the child hasn’t been here? I tell you the child has been here! Now if you want to get yourself into as tidy a little fuss as—”
“All right!” sang out Stillman. “Come, everybody, and look at this! It was right under our noses all the time, and we didn’t see it.”
There was a general plunge for the ground at the place where the child was alleged to have rested, and many eyes tried hard and hopefully to see the thing that Archy’s finger was resting upon. There was a pause, then a several-barrelled sigh of disappointment. Pat Riley and Ham Sandwich said, in the one breath,
“What is it, Archy? There’s nothing here.”
“Nothing? Do you call that nothing?” and he swiftly traced upon the ground a form with his finger. “There—don’t you recognize it now? It’s Injun Billy’s track. He’s got the child.”
“God be praised!” from the mother.
“Take away the lantern. I’ve got the direction. Follow!”