Coon’s gaze shifted from the cork to the party in the boat. He scowled and then coldly turned his back.
“Suit yerself,” he said indifferently. “You won’t find no dawg here.”
Trapper Joe beached the skiff very nearly where Penny had landed a few days earlier.
“Have a keer,” he advised as the girls trod through the muck. “Watch out fer snakes.”
“Here are Bones’ tracks!” Louise cried a moment later, spying the prints which led away from the shore.
A short distance in, the tracks abruptly ended, but nearby were prints of a man’s shoe and larger ones made from a heavy boot.
Trapper Joe noted them in silence, signaling for Penny and Louise to make no comment.
“Wait here while I look around,” he instructed.
Penny and Louise sat down on a mossy log to wait. Coon paid them no heed, completely ignoring their presence. The sun climbed higher overhead.
Presently the old trapper returned, his clothing soaked with perspiration.