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 man. "Then out we goes to search for the tracks of the thieves."

A look of despair crossed November's face. I knew he was thinking of the invaluable information the feet of the six victims must have blotted out forever.

"You found them?" inquired November.

"We did. They was plain enough," replied the big lumberman. "One man done it. He come up from the brook, did his business, and went back to the water. He was a big, heavy chap with large feet, and he wore tanned cowhide boots, patched on the right foot. There were seventeen nails in the heel of the right boot, and fifteen in the other. How's that for tracking?"

There was no doubt about the fact that November was surprised. He said nothing for a full minute, then he looked up sharply.

"How many bottles of whiskey had you?" said he.

"Nary one," answered Thompson. "There is n't one nearer than Lavallotte, as you well know. We was n't drunk, we was drugged! We must 'a' been, though how it was done beats