argued Bert, in an unsteady voice.

"And I'm just about as much of the opinion," retorted Hemingway,
"that your father left his hat and coat here, or sent them here,
and didn't even get his feet wet."

"That's preposterous," argued the son, half indignantly.

"Well, there is the spot, right there, where the hat and coat
were found. Now, for a hundred feet away, either up or down stream,
the ground is soft. Yet there are no tracks such as your father
would have left had he taken to the water close to where he left
his discarded garments," argued Hemingway, swinging his lantern
about.

"We've pretty well trodden down whatever footprints might have
been here," disputed Bert Dodge. "I shan't feel satisfied until
daylight comes and we've had a good chance to have the river
dragged."

"Well, of course, it is possible you know of a reason that would
make your father throw himself into the river?" guessed Officer
Hemingway, with a shrewd glance at the son.

"Neither my mother nor I know anything about my father that would
supply a reason for his suicide," retorted Bert Dodge stiffly.
"But I can't see any reason for believing anything except that
my poor dad must now be somewhere in the river."

"We'll soon be able to do the best that we can do by night," rejoined