Fred began to open the bag containing the tent while Dean untied the sleeping bag. The bag was an expensive, down-filled model, and like everything else, showed little if any signs of wear. As he reached inside, his hand touched something solid. He smiled, and looked over to Dean who felt his pulse quicken. But it was only a pair of shoes, fastidiously wrapped in newspaper to prevent them from soiling the fabric. Fred unwrapped the paper, tossed it aside, and thrust his hand into the toes of the shoes, but came up empty.
"Danged," he exclaimed, "I thought I had something.
"You just might," Dean said as he took notice of the wrinkled newspaper. He pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. It was a double sheet from the Parkside Sentinel. Fred scrambled over to look. The paper was dated Sunday, June 6. It was the issue listing the graduates of Parkside High School.
They took extra time replacing the gear, trying to duplicate exactly the way they'd found it. Dean was re-rolling the cap when he noticed the emblem. It was a Philadelphia Phillies baseball cap. Dean held it aloft for Fred to see. Both recognized it as the same headgear Jeffrey Byrne was reported to have been wearing when he crossed the road to the beach in Norfolk.
"That just about locks it up, doesn't it?" Fred said. Dean did-n't even bother to answer.
They dismantled the tent in silence and returned with it to Dean's campsite. After once again setting up Dean's tent, this time in the dark, Fred suggested they go someplace quiet and talk. The two men found a bench on the edge of the field, out of earshot of the hundreds of campers.
Fred prattled excitedly about the Parkside newspaper and baseball cap and how the two finds represented proof Jeffrey Byrne was alive. Dean let him talk it out, half listening, half trying to make sense of all the details. Finally, Fred summed up their feelings. "The big question-has he already skipped or will he ride tomorrow?"
"We know he didn't leave his bike here, and we know his number. We can't do anything until morning but keep our fingers crossed." They were both quiet for a few moments, breathing in the cool night air before Dean spoke. "There's one thing I can't figure. Where did he get the paper? They sure don't sell the Parkside Sentinel in Kansas or Durango, Colorado and he didn't have the newspaper forwarded from Scranton."
"He's got help. I said that from the beginning. He's probably with some lady friend right now, in one of the motels or in the motor home."