Word: trailings
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...gave rifles to 200 reporters and let them join in the hunt. A few lesser bandits were caught, but not Spada. Reporters, Fournier, armored cars and bloodhounds went home. A few of the gendarmes stayed, plodding patiently over the mountains, baying now & then on Spada's faint trail. But Spada was nowhere...
...that particular argument was tiny, tame, soon forgotten. But the big, wild hare that was started by Banker Morgan seating his bulky frame in the witness chair, bounded across the front pages of the nation's Press for the rest of the week, leaving a redolent, black trail of streamer headlines...
...Worthington, U. S. writer. In luxurious comfort they slid down across France, bumped over the Pyrenees, skimmed the Mediterranean. North Africa looked much like southern France. Then the Sahara began. Crossing the Sahara nowadays is a comparatively safe matter. The French run passenger buses over a fairly well-defined trail. But the two principal way-stations are not marked on any map. Bordj Estienne, an elaborate mud fort near the oasis of Reggan, boasts (and not idly) an American bar, French table d"hÓte, illustrated French and English magazines less than ten days old, bedrooms with electric light...
...appeared to be about the size of our Wichita hangar [102 ft. by 270 ft.] and shaped like a ball. It left a deep red trail with a bluish tint, which hung in the sky until obliterated by daylight...
...brought the boy up carefully, hoping for the best. But lycanthropy will out: before Bertrand was full-grown farmers thereabouts began to complain of midnight raids on their sheep. Locking Bertrand in his room only made him worse. Finally he escaped; Aymar tracked him into Paris by a trail of murders. During the siege of the city (this was in 1870) and the nightmare of the Commune, Werewolf Bertrand fed at will. But by the time Aymar found him Bertrand had fallen in love and was making desperate efforts to cure himself. But he was too far gone; one night...