This lumbering, waddling creature had come flopping along down out of the silent lower reaches of that frowning mountain, straight to his destination.

He was not the first printer to print something the wrong way around.
Who, then, was T.H.?
Not Master Anthony, Jr., at all events.

But some one afar off, surely.

Abstractedly, Tom Slade gazed off toward that towering mountain whence this clumsy but unerring messenger had come.

It looked very dark up there.