Little was found in addition to the shoes and the skull, except a few bone buttons, the metal clasps from a child’s garters and such like. The skull and shoes furnished the evidence needed. The former, examined by experts, revealed the double crown which had caused the upstanding of the missing boy’s back hair. The shoes, washed free of the encasing mud, showed the maker’s name still sharply cut into the instep sole. All the facts fitted. Only a new pair of shoes would have retained the mark so remarkably, and Jimmie had worn a brand new pair the morning he strayed out. Charles Glass was satisfied that his son had wandered away that seductive May morning, gone on and on, as children sometimes do, got into the boggy ground and been unable to get out. Exhaustion had overtaken him, and he had lain down and never risen. Perhaps, again, this place had been the edge of a little pool in the spring of 1915, and Jimmie, venturing too close, had fallen in and been drowned, only to have his bones cast up again by the droughty fall eight years later. With these views Mrs. Glass agreed, but Captain Rooney refused absolutely to entertain them. He had been over the ground many times. It was of the most difficult character, loose and swampy, and literally strewn with jagged stones that cut a man to pieces if he tried to do more than creep among them, absolutely impassable to a child. Again, there was the matter of distance. How could a child of four years, none too firm a walker on easy ground, as many a childish bruise and scar will testify, have made its way for more than two miles over this hellish terrain into a morass? Must it not have fallen exhausted long before and rested till the voices of the searchers in that first night had wakened it? And how about those little shoes? Captain Rooney asks us. Of what leather were they made to have lain for eight and one half years in that impassable bog and yet to have been so well preserved as to retain the maker’s imprint? “No, sir,” the gallant captain concludes, “those may be the bones of Jimmie Glass, but if they are, some one must have taken him there.” Perhaps--and then again? How far a lost and desperate child will stray is not too simple a question. If, as Captain Rooney suggests, Jimmie Glass probably would have tired and lain down to rest, would he not also have risen again and blundered on? As for the durability of the leather, any one may go to any well-stocked museum and find hides of the sixteenth century still tolerably preserved. And if some one took the pitiful body of the child and tossed it into that morass, who was it?