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Clyde
,
while
attempting
to
smile
,
looked
in
the
direction
of
the
sound
and
listened
like
a
hunted
animal
.
What
was
it
now
that
urged
him
to
get
out
of
the
water
and
dress
and
run
?
Hurry
!
Hurry
!
To
your
tent
!
To
the
woods
,
quick
!
Until
at
last
heeding
this
,
and
while
most
of
the
others
were
not
looking
,
hurrying
to
his
tent
,
changing
to
the
one
plain
blue
business
suit
and
cap
that
he
still
possessed
,
then
slipping
into
the
woods
back
of
the
camp
--
out
of
sight
and
hearing
of
all
present
until
he
should
be
able
to
think
and
determine
,
but
keeping
always
safely
inland
out
of
the
direct
view
of
the
water
,
for
fear
--
for
fear
--
who
could
tell
exactly
what
those
shots
meant
?
Yet
Sondra
!
And
her
words
of
Saturday
and
yesterday
and
to-day
.
Could
he
leave
her
in
this
way
,
without
being
sure
?
Could
he
?
Her
kisses
!
Her
dear
assurances
as
to
the
future
!
What
would
she
think
now
--
and
those
others
--
in
case
he
did
not
go
back
?
The
comment
which
was
certain
to
be
made
in
the
Sharon
and
other
papers
in
regard
to
this
disappearance
of
his
,
and
which
was
certain
to
identify
him
with
this
same
Clifford
Golden
or
Carl
Graham
!
was
it
not
?
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Then
reflecting
also
--
the
possible
groundlessness
of
these
fears
,
based
on
nothing
more
,
maybe
,
than
the
chance
shots
of
passing
hunters
on
the
lake
or
in
these
woods
.
And
then
pausing
and
debating
with
himself
whether
to
go
on
or
not
.
Yet
,
oh
,
the
comfort
of
these
tall
,
pillared
trees
--
the
softness
and
silence
of
these
brown
,
carpeting
needles
on
the
ground
--
the
clumps
and
thickets
of
underbrush
under
which
one
could
lie
and
hide
until
night
should
fall
again
.
And
then
on
--
and
on
.
But
turning
,
none
-
the-less
,
with
the
intention
of
returning
to
the
camp
to
see
whether
any
one
had
come
there
.
(
He
might
say
he
had
taken
a
walk
and
got
lost
in
the
woods
.
)
But
about
this
time
,
behind
a
protecting
group
of
trees
at
least
two
miles
west
of
the
camp
,
a
meeting
and
conference
between
Mason
,
Slack
and
all
the
others
.
And
later
,
as
a
result
of
this
and
even
as
Clyde
lingered
and
returned
somewhat
nearer
the
camp
,
Mason
,
Swenk
paddling
the
canoe
,
arriving
and
inquiring
of
those
who
were
now
on
shore
if
a
Mr.
Clyde
Griffiths
was
present
and
might
he
see
him
.
And
Harley
Baggott
,
being
nearest
,
replying
:
"
Why
,
yes
,
sure
.
He
's
around
here
somewhere
.
"
And
Stuart
Finchley
calling
:
"
Eh-o
,
Griffiths
!
"
But
no
reply
.
Yet
Clyde
,
not
near
enough
to
hear
any
of
this
,
even
now
returning
toward
the
camp
,
very
slowly
and
cautiously
.
And
Mason
concluding
that
possibly
he
was
about
somewhere
and
unaware
of
anything
,
of
course
,
deciding
to
wait
a
few
minutes
anyhow
--
while
advising
Swenk
to
fall
back
into
the
woods
and
if
by
any
chance
encountering
Slack
or
any
other
to
advise
him
that
one
man
be
sent
east
along
the
bank
and
another
west
,
while
he
--
Swenk
--
proceeded
in
a
boat
eastward
as
before
to
the
inn
at
the
extreme
end
,
in
order
that
from
there
word
might
be
given
to
all
as
to
the
presence
of
the
suspect
in
this
region
.
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In
the
meanwhile
Clyde
by
now
only
three-quarters
of
a
mile
east
,
and
still
whispered
to
by
something
which
said
:
Run
,
run
,
do
not
linger
!
yet
lingering
,
and
thinking
SONDRA
,
this
wonderful
life
!
Should
he
go
so
?
And
saying
to
himself
that
he
might
be
making
a
greater
mistake
by
going
than
by
staying
.
For
supposing
those
shots
were
nothing
--
hunters
,
mere
game
shots
meaning
nothing
in
his
case
--
and
yet
costing
him
all
?
And
yet
turning
at
last
and
saying
to
himself
that
perhaps
it
might
be
best
not
to
return
at
present
,
anyhow
at
least
not
until
very
late
--
after
dark
--
to
see
if
those
strange
shots
had
meant
anything
.
But
then
again
pausing
silently
and
dubiously
,
the
while
vesper
sparrows
and
woodfinches
sang
.
And
peering
.
And
peeking
nervously
.
And
then
all
at
once
,
not
more
than
fifty
feet
distant
,
out
of
the
long
,
tall
aisles
of
the
trees
before
him
,
a
whiskered
,
woodsman
-
like
type
of
man
approaching
swiftly
,
yet
silently
--
a
tall
,
bony
,
sharp-eyed
man
in
a
brown
felt
hat
and
a
brownish-gray
baggy
and
faded
suit
that
hung
loosely
over
his
spare
body
.
And
as
suddenly
calling
as
he
came
--
which
caused
Clyde
's
blood
to
run
cold
with
fear
and
rivet
him
to
the
spot
.