Tom did not budge.
Neither did the turtle.

The turtle was facing up toward the camp and away from the lake.

Tom rested his chin in his hands, studying the initials on the turtle's shell.

If they had been A.H.instead of T.H.
they would indeed have been the very initials of Master Anthony Harrington, Jr.

But a miss is as good as a mile, thought Tom, and T.H.
is no more like A.H.than it is like Z.Q.
This train of thought naturally recalled to his mind the letters he had seen imprinted in the mud up in the woods.