“Certain, sure!” said the fisherman. “Where’d you find it?”
“It came down near here. So did one of the others.”
“That so?” said the fisherman, seeming somewhat concerned. “Hope he ain’t come to no harm.” While they were talking Professor Ravenden had been making a rapid calculation on a pad.
“I believe that I can lead you approximately to the point whence these kites were flown,” he said. “Will you follow me?”
For more than a mile the small and slight professor set them an astonishing pace. Presently he stopped short and picked up the end of a string at the foot of a small hillock.
“This also seems to have been cut,” he said, and followed its course.
Beyond the knoll was a hollow, and on the slope of this a small windlass.
“That’s his’n!” cried the fisherman. “But where’s he?”
Haynes walked over to a small oak patch beyond. For several yards in from the edge the shrubbery showed, by its bent twigs, the passage of a large body. Patches of cloth on the twigs told that a man had torn through in hot haste. On the soil underneath were footprints. But at the end of the path and the footprints was nothing.
“Look here!” Haynes exclaimed. “He rushed in here to escape something. Here’s where the trail ends. You can see-”