He pointed off to the side of the road, somewhat in the direction from which he had just come. "Are you sure!" asked the Chief and Wayne in a breath. "That was Grimes--the one we think had the child. Perhaps he's got her hid out there somewhere." They started quickly forward as if to continue their search but the chauffeur interposed. "No," he said. "She isn't there. I looked. I started to follow him but it's all swamp after you get in a few rods. That's why I came back by the road. Look at my feet." It was evident that the man spoke the truth. His feet and legs were covered with thick, black muck. "But if Grimes went in there, we can go," urged Wayne. "I don't know about that," returned the chauffeur. "He may not come back. I wouldn't want to try it. Listen!" The chauffeur's nerves seemed to have been somewhat upset by even the brief investigation he had made of the swamp. He had been alarmed, for a moment or so, he told them, lest he, himself, get mired and be unable to return. "You never would have known what had happened to me," he said. At his sudden exclamation they all paused to listen. Someone was certainly calling. They could all hear the voice. On the still, heavy air it sounded weird and far away: "Help! Help!--Who-o-o-p--Who-o-o-p--Hallo-o-o!--Help!" It was a man's voice. In it there was a wail of despair. Again it sounded. It increased in volume and mounted to a shriek. It was the cry of a soul in torment. Cold chills ran through the veins of the men who listened. "My God!" exclaimed one of the detectives. "I can't stand that, Chief." "If he went in there, something's got him," said another. "Maybe it's 'gators. There's a lot of them in there, down the road a little further." "If 'twas alligators he'd never yell more than once," said the Chief. "It sounds to me as if he might be mired, but I doubt it." "Perhaps it's a trap," said the man who had suggested alligators. The cries continued. They varied from shrieks to howls. They became maniacal. And the final appeal was always the same: "Help--Oh, help!" The Chief looked quickly about. "Anybody want to come with me," he snapped. "You don't have to, you know." "Good God!" exclaimed the chauffeur who had just emerged from the edge of the swamp, "You don't mean you're going in there, Chief?" But the Chief had already started. The others followed. A leaden haze now enveloped the countryside. The air was hot and muggy. The sultry stillness seemed intensified by the low rumble of thunder which continued to mutter in the distance as if the vengeance of heaven were being aroused. Occasionally fierce, flying streaks of lightning zig-zagged across the skyline just where it seemed to meet the trees which dotted the swamps. There was something vibrant and supernatural in the atmosphere. The butterflies, the birds and the insects seemed all to have sought shelter from some demonstration of power against which they were as nothing.