A gal of her age in black! No, she was as
bright as the flowers in my wife's garden. Not a black thing on her. I
should sooner think her clothes were red than black."
Harper showed his surprise.
"Not a black skirt?" he persisted.
"No, sir'ee. I haven't much eye for fixin's but I've eye enough to know
when a gal's dressed like a gal and not like some old woman."
Harper's eye stole again towards Ransom.
"Checkmate in four moves," he muttered. "The person we are interested in
could have worn no such clothing as Mr. Goodenough describes. Yet
clothing can be changed. How, I cannot see in this instance; but I will
risk no mistake. The trail we followed led too surely in the direction of
the highway for us to drop all inquiries because of a colored skirt and a
hat we cannot quite account for. If the face is one we know (and I
really believe it was), we can leave the other discrepancies to future
explanation." And turning back to the patient countryman, he composedly
remarked: "You are positive in your recollections of the young lady's
features. You would have no difficulty in recognizing her if you saw her
again?"
"Not a bit. Once I get a picter in my mind of a man or a woman I see it
always. And I can see her as plain as plain the moment I stop to think.
She was pretty, you see, and just a little scared to speak to a stranger.
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