There was a ragged displacement of the cracked and crumbling soil and the unmistakable scoop of kicking hoofs.

As he stooped to examine them, one of the men at the right uttered a shout.

By the same strange instinct Clarence knew that Peyton was found! He was, indeed, lying there among the wild oats at the right of the road, but without trace of life or scarcely human appearance.

His clothes, where not torn and shredded away, were partly turned inside out; his shoulders, neck, and head were a shapeless, undistinguishable mask of dried earth and rags, like a mummy wrapping.

His left boot was gone.