Let Mr. Wilson, his brothers, and Green take your dog and search in the
pine-barren. I'll take my men and my dogs and cross the railroad. The
signal of any discovery will be three shots fired in quick succession. The
gathering-place'll be this house, where a member of the discovering
party'll meet the other parties and bring 'em to the discovery. And I beg
that you'll refrain from violence, at least until we can reach each other.
We've no proof of anything--"
"Damn proof!"
"An' our only clew," the sheriff went on, "the missing boat, points to Mrs.
Morris's safety." A little consultation ensued; then agreeing to the
sheriff's distribution of forces, they left the house.
The sheriff's dogs--the lean, small hounds used on such occasions--were
tied, and he held the ropes. There was an anxious look on his face, and he
kept his dogs near the house until the party for the barren had mounted and
ridden away, and the party in the boat had pushed off into the blackness of
the swamp, a torch fastened at the prow casting weird, uncertain shadows.
Then ordering his six men to mount and to lead his horse, he went to the
room of the negro Abram and got an old shirt.
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