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.
For this to happen just when the Limberlost was bringing the very desire
of her heart to the girl, it was too bad.

Sinton was afraid for her, yet he did not want to add the burden of fear
to Katharine Comstock's trouble, or to disturb the joy of Elnora in her
work. He stopped at the cabin and slowly went up the walk. Mrs. Comstock
was sitting on the front steps with some sewing. The work seemed to
Sinton as if she might be engaged in putting a tuck in a petticoat. He
thought of how Margaret had shortened Elnora's dress to the accepted
length for girls of her age, and made a mental note of Mrs. Comstock's
occupation.

She dropped her work on her lap, laid her hands on it and looked into
his face with a sneer.