The home of Mrs. Comstock and Elnora adjoined the swamp. Sinton's land
lay next, and not another residence or man easy to reach in case of
trouble. Whoever wrote that note had some human kindness in his breast,
but the fact stood revealed that he feared his strength if Elnora were
delivered into his hands. Where had he been the previous night when
he heard that prayer? Was that the first time he had been in such
proximity? Sinton drove fast, for he wished to reach the swamp before
Elnora and the Bird Woman would go there.
At almost four he came to the case, and dropping on his knees studied
the ground, every sense alert. He found two or three little heel prints.
Those were made by Elnora or the Bird Woman. What Sinton wanted to learn
was whether all the remainder were the footprints of one man. It was
easily seen, they were not. There were deep, even tracks made by fairly
new shoes, and others where a well-worn heel cut deeper on the inside of
the print than at the outer edge. Undoubtedly some of Corson's old gang
were watching the case, and the visits of the women to it. There was no
danger that any one would attack the Bird Woman. She never went to the
swamp at night, and on her trips in the daytime, every one knew that she
carried a revolver, understood how to use it, and pursued her work in a
fearless manner.
Elnora, prowling around the swamp and lured into the interior by the
flight of moths and butterflies; Elnora, without father, money, or
friends save himself, to defend her--Elnora was a different proposition.
Pages:
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103