"I'm right ashamed to tell of it," Stone said, finally. "There's no excuse for such carelessness. Plutina got into all this mess because she was afraid something dreadful might happen, and it might have--on account of my forgetfulness." "What's it all about?" Brant demanded, now distinctly curious. "It's bear-traps!" was the morose answer. "Bear-traps?" The marshal nodded. "Those infernal traps Hodges set along Thunder Branch--that made Plutina turn informer.... Well, I just naturally forgot all about 'em." Brant uttered an ejaculation of dismay. "You mean, they're still there, and set?" Stone nodded. "Just that. I took Hodges and York down another way. I've never thought of the traps since, till to-day." "Risky, of course," Brant admitted. "But nobody got caught, or they'd have been missed," he added comfortingly. "Nobody in the neighborhood's disappeared, has there?" "Not that I've heard of," Stone replied. "But it's luck, not my deserts, if no harm's been done." "I'll go along with you," Brant offered. "We'll have that trouble off your mind in a jiffy." So, the two men turned, and took the trail past the Higgins' clearing and on until they came to Thunder Branch, where Plutina had made her discovery. They followed the course of the stream upward, the marshal in the lead. As he came to the bend, where the rocky cliffs began, Stone turned and called over his shoulder: "They're just beyond." Then, he went forward, with quick, nervous strides, and disappeared beyond the bend. A moment later, a great cry brought Brant running. It was, in truth, a ghastly scene that showed there, lighted brilliantly by the noontide sun. In the midst of the little space of dry ground bordering the stream, where the lush grass grew thick and high, the body of a man was lying. It was contorted grotesquely, sprawling at length on its face, in absolute stillness--the stillness of death. Brant, himself horrified, looked pityingly at the white, stricken face of the marshal, and turned away, helplessly. He could find no words to lessen the hideousness of this discovery for the man through whose fault the tragedy had come. Then, presently, as Stone seemed paralyzed by the disaster, Brant went closer to examine the gruesome thing. The victim had been caught by both traps. Evidently, he had stepped fairly into the first. Then, as the great jaws snapped shut on his leg, he had lurched forward and fallen. His arms were outspread wide. But his head was within the second trap. The jaws of it had clamped on the neck. The steel fangs were sunk deep into the flesh. Blood from the wounds was caked black on the skin. "He didn't suffer any to speak of," Brant remarked, at last. He observed, with some surprise, that his voice was very thin. He was not a squeamish man, and he had seen many evil sights. But this--