Chapter 71
Pressed into the damp ground beside the stalk was a clear print, a vague shape of a man's foot. Dropping to his knees, he peered closely at the insubstantial trace and was suddenly sure. It had been made only a short time earlier by someone wearing moccasins. "WALKER!" The urgency in the Indian's voice made the NCO straighten. He stepped to Cal's side. "What is it?" He saw nothing that should have alarmed the guide. "Someone was watching the trail from here. Someone who knows how to keep hidden--wearing moccasins, I think." They'd seen such tracks back where the fugitive had been shot at. They'd had time to get comfortable with the concept of a man wearing moccasins in these mountains. The two men were suddenly uneasy. It hadn't occurred to the Marine the quarry might turn on the hunte
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