"Narrow, pointed shoes, and rather high heeled for a man to wear,"
Darrin answered.

"Exactly," nodded Dick. "Look there!"

Darrin bent down over a soft spot in the soil close to the railway
roadbed. There were three prints of just such a boot as he had
described.

"You see the small heel print," continued Prescott, in a whisper.
"And you note that the front part of the foot makes a heavy impression,
as it would when the foot is tilted forward by a high heel."

"I don't believe another man in the town ever wore a pair of boots
such as made these prints," murmured Darrin excitedly. "And they're
headed away from the river, toward the railroad! And look here---other
footprints of a different kind!"

"You're right!" cried Prescott, holding the lantern closer to
the ground and scanning some additional marks in the soil. "Coarse
shoes; one pair of 'em brogans! Mr. Dodge had companions when
he went away from here."

"They may have been forcing the man somewhere with them," quivered
Darrin, staring off into the black night about them.

"No; not a sign of a struggle," argued Dick, still with his gaze
on the ground. "No matter who Mr. Dodge's companions were, he
went with them willingly. Gracious, Dave, but we were right in
believing the banker to be still alive! Coat and hat at the water's