The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1896-04-18

The first Miss Eaton closed the door
and Mr.. johnson continued to follow tn
trail, leaning forward like an alert In
dian scout.
Mr.. Johnson had not proceeded fal
before he met Mr.. Morton, who discov
cred the suburb before the first hous,
was built. H
"Are you looking at these tracks?' in
quired Morton.
Eyes. Have you noticed them?"
"They beat anything / ever saw.
traced them up the street from m,
house little distance, and all at ono
they stopped. Come on and I'll show
YOU"
They followed the big footprints
around into Baldwin street and thence
over n block to the north, and then sud
denly the trail ended ut place whert
the snow had been kicked about as II
men had scufiled there.
This is where il started" said John
son. "Now, let's sec how far we can fol
low it the other way"
They went back along Baldwin street
to where the tracks led over to Morton's
house, tho same as they had at the
Eaton and Johnson places, but strange
To say, the trail divided, one set OF
tracks leading over to Morton's house.
the other continuing south on Baldwin
street.
At Chester avenue the trail turned
toward the Eaton house and continued
to the east, although there was side
trail leading over to the Eaton house
and another to Mr.. Johnson's front win
dow.
The two men followed the main line.
From Chester avenue it turned into
Miller street and came to an abrupt
end near the Methodist church. There
were other tracks of ordinary size to be
seen, but ut the point where the trail
ended the man with the giant feet had
evidently gone up into the air. The
snow was badly kicked about. Perhaps
there had been another struggle.
according to the size of his feet"
observed Mr.. Morton, thoughtfully,
that man should have been ii feet'high.
What do you think of it?"
II simply give it up" said Mr.. John
son. II never in all my life ran across
anything like it. These are real tracks.
You can see the marks of the nails and
the print of the heel. But they begin
nowhere md end nowhere. Here's
single trail and suddenly it splits into
two trails going in different directions.
One set of tracks goes right up to
window, and yet there's nothing tn
show that the man turned around and
came back. He didn't go in the window.
though. Now what the"
Don't ask me-" said Mr.. Morton.
At the station that morning the men
talked of the strange tracks and not
one could explain them except by bring
ing in supernatural agent. And they
never did find ont.
? And now for the solution of this story
Of mystery.
Bertrand Thompson, one of the
liyelier spirits of the quiet suburb, had
been to town on the evening of the
snowfall. At small free-and-easy club
which he often visited he had become
acquainted with well-known min
strel performer. The minstrel gave
Thompson pair of huge shoes such rs
are often worn in burlesque pieces. He
had promised them to Thompson long
before and on this evening he brought
them to the club.
Thompson reached Morton's Grove
on the last night train. He started for
home, the shoes wrapped up under his
urn.
The snowfall had ceased and 1t was
4 clear night. He had taken few
drinks and was in an imaginative and
,reativc state of mind. He saw the
unmarked snow and it occurred to him
that it might surprise people in the
if they saw tracks Is inches
long.
lie leaned against fence AMI
his shoes after some difficulty
and then marched homcward.
When he came in front of Morton's
house brilliant idea came to him. He
walked over to the front window of the
house and then with extreme caution
backed his way out to the street again,
taking care to put the big shoes back
in the footprints already made.
Then he took up his homeward jour
ney again, but he thought of the Eaton
girls, so he favored them with a special
set Of footprints, and afterward did as
much for Mr.. Johnson, whom he dis
liked very much.
When he reached the Methodist
church corner he realized that he might
m tracked to his home, so he changed
shoes again, with a great deal of hop
ping around in the snow to keep from
losing his balance while he was stand
ing on one foot.
When he learned how successful his
experiment had been he kept quiet, and
allowed the tale of the monster foot
prints TO become q suburban classic
Chicago Record.