“Nah!”
“All right, then that ends it,” I said.
“What I’m thinking about,” said Tom, “is the trail you saw—or didn’t see. I’d like to get a line on that. Either there is one or there isn’t.”
I was rather annoyed at being twice discredited; once by Rivers and once by Tom. “If there was an east wind and rain, I could show it to you readily enough,” I said, rather sharply.
“Sure it wasn’t part of your dream? Remember the face.”
“I am not likely to forget it,” I retorted. “But I’m perfectly willing to leave it out of our reckoning. Let’s say it was a vision. All right, you saw the footprint. Now do you want to go up the mountain and see the other one? And also what’s scratched on the rock? Trail or no trail we can get up that far—I did it. Maybe I’m not a man of the woods, but I did it. As for the spook trail, as you call it, it’s there whether it can be seen now or not.”
“Maybe it caught cold in the rain and can’t come out,” Brent said.
“I’ll find it if it’s there,” Tom said conclusively.
“Atta boy,” said Brent.
“Wait till twilight,” Tom added.