He did not finish his sentence, but Hugh knew that he was thinking of the Edmonds boys and of how the search for them was growing more hopeless every day. He, too, felt that despair was not far off, but he had a feeling that, if either of them spoke of it, the idea of failure would suddenly become a real thing instead of a dreaded possibility. He tried to turn the talk to another subject and spoke the first words that entered his mind. It was the most careless of questions, but it led to such unexpected consequences that he used to wonder, later, why the clock had not ceased ticking or the rising breeze stopped blowing to listen as he spoke.
“Have you seen any wolves about here lately, or that white deer that the Indians say is in the forest?”
“Wolves never come so far south as this in summer,” answered Oscar, then added sharply, “Why?”
“Because when I was lost I stopped by a marsh and—I haven’t really thought of it very clearly since—but there were footprints in the ground that were much too big to have been made by a fox, I am sure, so I thought they were a wolf’s.”
Oscar leaned toward him, his blue eyes suddenly burning with excitement.
“What sort of footprints?” he questioned tersely. “How big? That makes all the difference in the world.”
“Why, I don’t know,” stammered Hugh; “just footprints of some big animal. They weren’t very plain.”
In wild haste Oscar fumbled in his pockets, pulled out a pencil and, so great was his eagerness, drew his rough outlines on the blank page of his Bible.
“If a fox had made them they would be this big,” he said; “and if a wolf, like this. Were they as big, bigger than that? As big as this?”
Hugh looked over his shoulder and pointed unhesitatingly to the third drawing.
“They were as large as that, or even larger,” he stated. “Oh, what does it mean?”
“There is but one creature that could have made them,” said he; “that is the dog Nicholas. He is very large, and white, as large as a deer. Now we have something to go upon at last.”
He glanced quickly toward the west and frowned as he noted that the sun was low.
“It is too late to go now,” he said, “and would hardly be worth while, for I suppose the marks were days old when you saw them. We will have supper, and go to bed early for a start at sunrise to-morrow.”