Boyd flipped open his notebook. “What can you tell me about what you saw?”

“Well, Chick saw the Hound Man over by the old cabin on Cobb Hill,” Shelly Eagleton said. “Been on the property forever, but we only go out there when we want to take some of the wood for the fire or what have you.”

“Okay, you saw it out by the old cabin. Mind if I have a look?”

“Oh, no, sorry,” Shelly said. “That’s where Chick saw it. I didn’t see it at the cabin.”

Boyd ran his rock-hard eraser over his notes, smearing them into a grey smudge. “Where’d you see it, then?”

“In the basement. He was down there with a candle, reading.”

“Basement?” Boyd looked down. “Isn’t the water table a little high for that?”

“It does get damp down there, and a little moldy. I bring down a bag of kitty litter a day to take care of the worst of it, though. On account of the archive. I think that’s why the Hound Man was there.”

“Archive, huh?” Boyd said. “Tell me more.”

“Well, that might be why we reported it as evil instead of just spooky,” Shelly said. “Down in the archives, we have all the writings of the Mad Postman of Tyler. We can’t release any of them for 100 years, but when we do, it’ll be the story of a lifetime.”

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