We have been laboring to bring this story to a close…  boy time flies when… well, not when it pertains to Mark Trail and his never ending quest to save the natural world from those who may want to profit from its bounty…

And Yes!  Poor Jessica!  Letting Ethan “Marlin” Fauscett take the entire rap!  Never mind the evidence we have that she was in on the whole enterprise and that they were both afraid of being found out… and how important the income steam was to keeping the island intact and “private.”  Looks like she will have to begin opening her doors to eco-tourists and other such folk in order to keep things going…

Look at Doc… Wincing in pain from the once again smug son in law, off doing good while he and Rusty were left behind…  Mark, you really are a piece of work…

Mark must have hit his head hard going into the water… Use of a contraction rather than whole words is as rare in the Trailverse as well, Mark and Cherry, well… you know, rumpling the sheets… But with the entire case handed to nameless, face shifting peace-officer on a silver platter, Mark’s work is done here.  And so with his hair magically back in place after the watery tussle, off Mark will go to pick up Doc and Rusty, with lusty tales to tell- Poaching, Punching and saving the soul of one Jessica Cannup, who it would appear is going to get off scot-free, that is unless the evidence leads back to her…

But what of poor Jessica and the island?  We shall never know what becomes of the house and the grounds now that the main source of income has been cut off…  and there will be no more saved birds…  Ever think of that, Trail?  Life is full of trade-offs… and with your self-righteousness and your punches, you just sentenced countless birds to a fate that might have been avoided…

I am not an artist, so I don’t where I get off criticizing the artwork on this strip, but here goes…  tiny hands and tiny gun in tiny hand on the left, accusing finger in the middle, and Jessica forming the Blondie Bumstead middle and ring finger glued together, pointer and pinky jutting out- sort of the opposite of the Vulcan “live long and prosper” sign.  Seriously check it out.  This is not a natural way to hold one’s fingers, and I wonder why it pops up like it does.  It has to be on purpose…

But with Jessica playing the role of the surprised and shocked spouse who clearly had NO IDEA what her boyfriend spent his time doing of where the money came from (“what? He stuffed fish for a living- big ones!!”)  Marlin will take the fall and molder in Jail for Heaven knows how long…  all I know is that we won’t be seeing him again, and Mark gets to write a hard hitting piece on the evils of poaching…  for the umpteenth time…

And I don’t mean to keep working this (OK, maybe I do,) but aside from the blatant cut and paste job that was perpetrated between the third and fourth version from the left, this sheriff dude could be four different people…  It’s kind of creeping me out.  Let’s hope we don’t have to see a fifth version of this guy…

It’s one thing to re-use artwork from prior days and prior story arcs, but this is just blatant…  Check out Mark’s face from panel one to panel two…  at least they had the dignity to change where the water droplets are located…  And the “Officer” is none other than the random changeling who knocked on Doc’s Motel door…  only now he looks familiar since there is a blatant “copy- paste- apply different colors” thing going on here…

And Mark!  Your hair!!  It’s all wet and mussed up!  Oh well, at least every now and then we get to see your more human side, the one that doesn’t say “camera ready” all the time…  Of course Mark has a list of his contacts, since Mr. “I don’t know what private information looks like” coughed up all the names and addresses of where Marlin Ethan Fauscett ships his illegal, ill-gotten booty…

Let’s all hope that that the plot machine that spins back at Lost Forest can come up with something other than poaching…  <<yawn…>>

You will see images like the one in the first panel… Though this effort will garner fairly low scores given the rough entry and the resulting splash… and considering the shallows into which they dived, it’s a miracle at least one of them isn’t paralyzed…

One more punch for good measure, and the Chopper arrives on cue…  But how do they know which ONE is Mark Trail??  Do they assume that right makes might, that the man left standing is the one who is on their side?  Hell, a general description of either man would result in having both of them called into a line-up…

And I repeat- that is one heckuva helicopter… what is the hourly cost to run that baby?  No matter, resources are unlimited in the Trail-verse, especially when turtle eggs are on the line!!

There’s no boat in the frame, he was running out onto the dock to do what?  Swim?  Your brand of vigilante justice… it’s all about putting another notch on your hiking boots, isn’t it Mark?  This “writing articles” and “taking pictures” thing is really just a means to an end, isn’t it?

But there’s really nothing like a good tussle in the shallows, is there?  And now that we know that the chopper is on its way, and there hasn’t been a gun drawn, it’s really just a matter of time…

To Jessica’s Question “Marlin, WHERE are you going?”  The answer is obvious, Marlin is going to take a long run off a short pier…  and Mark is going to help him get there.  Marlin turns to look at Jessica with those inky-black, soulless eyes that can only be owned by a Poacher… realizing that he has gone wrong, that he has been dragging his girlfriend down with him, and that his comeuppance is nigh…  Ah, Justice!

We’ve got Air Force II at our disposal…  we can be out at Pelican Point in minutes!  And by the way… If it’s an island, why is it called Pelican Point?  Is it a point that juts out from the island??  Must be a pretty big island…

And of course a POACHER is the most dangerous criminal that a person might try to challenge!  And Mark, a mere citizen of Mother Earth, is certainly in over his head… Or so the local authorities think.  Apparently Mark’s reputation for playing all roles in fighting crime has not reached Florida…  Why, he has no use for Police, District Attorneys, Prosecutors, Judges, Juries or Jailers…

And Let’s also think for a moment about the last time Jason smith was involved- remember where that was?  Why, it was in Mark’s (or Doc’s) back yard-  there was poachin’ goin’ on right in LOST FOREST… It would seem that THE JOURNAL has quite the geographic span and regional following…

Well, it would seem that Jason smith, Newspaper Man, was good on his word… even if the instructions WERE terribly vague, something about if Mark didn’t get back to him SOON, he should call in the authorities.  Well, here he is.  Knocking on the Motel Room Door of one Doc Davis.  Of course Rusty is bound and gagged and in the closet, because that’s what he likes… but for now let’s study the changing face of the Florida Mountie…

From panel one to panel two, it doesn’t even look like the same person, and from the back he indistinguishable from the other two people…  Even Doc’s face seems to be slipping off his skull in the last frame, having worked so hard to generate even a modicum of enthusiasm for his unexpected visitor…

And by the way, what is the policy regarding facial hair for this particular Police Force?  Typically it’s mustache only and then not more than an inch on either side…

Jessica will soon say… Thanks a lot, Mark, you just drove Marlin from the island, and now Jessica’s bed will be cold and uninviting…  Not that you’d know anything about THAT…  And of course the last guy that “ran off” met an untimely end getting shoved off a cliff at the points of an Elk-Rack…

I love the rattled look on Ethan’s face…  at least he is capable of private thought, at least he doesn’t have to utter every word that occurs to him… But he knows that he is looking at hard time… turtle egg poaching.  Is there anything lower?  What brought you to this lowly state, Ethan?  What made you wake up one morning and say, “You know, I’m gonna go dig me up some tasty turtle eggs…”  Or did your dear old dad teach you?  Who Knows…

Well, it was high time we reached crescendo on this story arc… With Doc and Rusty moldering in the motel room, Cherry at home doing who knows what other than picking up after Andy, it was time for ALL of us to get the heck off this island.  Islands can be confining, can’t they?

Mark, how many people have you punched in your career?  Does your fist get itchy when it goes too long without connecting squarely with a bad guy’s jawbone?  Of course, Marlin threw the first punch, so it’s all self-defense, but it was you Mark, who came back looking for trouble…

And never have more satisfying words been spoken… “SEA TURTLE EGGS…”

And In case anyone was interested… this is a very serious offense…  we are talking Jail time for violating the Lacey Act…  all for “harvesting” what in some realms is considered a delicacy…

And it’s not from Mark!  We waste no time with idle chatter…  Ethan Fauscett aka “Marlin” has “had it” with Trail… Can you blame him?  Mark not only overstayed his welcome, he has shown no compunction about getting into their sh*t, either, and all in the name of what?  Suspicions?  Accusations?  And exactly what does a bag of Turtle eggs look like?  I would think that they would be place gingerly into a box, with padding, not all thrown into a gunny-sack, where risk of breakage and spoilage would be high.

Ethan, I cannot stop thinking about Ethan from “Lost” and what a creepy dude he was…He considered himself one of the “good guys…”  I wonder whether Ethan “Marlin” Fauscett considers himself a “good guy?”

Will Mark Return the blow?  Will he fold like a cheap tent?  Let’s stay tuned!!

“I mean, c’mon Trail, we are obviously cut from the same bolt of cloth here, I mean, we could wear each other’s clothes and no one would know the difference…  I mean, how could you accuse me of such random and depraved acts?!?” Marlin seems to be saying…  Well, then, Marlin, why don’t you just show us what you got in that duffle of yours, painted boat-motor green… Mark would seem to demand, suggest, infer whilst standing tall and Trail-like, hair combed just so, face cleanly shaven even though he hasn’t had access to a public convenience for days now…  And what about Marlin’s hair??  Sort of reminds me of the guy in American Hustle…  lives with his mom, has to set his hair in curlers every night…  Or is Marlin naturally that way?  Only his hairdresser knows the truth!!

And by the way…  Mr. Fish on the wall has been whispering all Mark needs to know, right into his ear…

Unless of course this is all an act, and you can’t wait for Mark to confront Marlin… But that’s a fairly convincing look on your face, that is if you are going for dejected and resigned…

So sure of yourself, aren’t you Mark…  Cock-sure comes to mind…  But then have you ever been wrong?  Not in recent memory…  and Mark, she’s not a “girl…” she’s a grown woman, even if, in your eyes, she morphs back to being a teenager periodically…

With incontrovertible evidence like PICTURES, the case is closed; might as well throw the rascal in a cell and lose the key!!  And Jessica is right, Mark, your stories always start out being about one thing but end up being about something else, something BAD!  Or GOOD, if you like sensationalism… But I guess that’s what sells copy, like in the National Enquirer, recently claiming that former President Clinton was (again!) caught in flagrant delicto with two hookers!!

That’s right, baby.  Back door.  Boat dock.    I will handle this thug…

Oh Mark, your assumptions will be your undoing…  you were not privy to their private conversations- the ones they had when you first arrived… the looks of evil cast by Jessica…  You don’t know who you are dealing with here…

Only in the Trailverse.  You might as well have accused Marlin of Human Trafficking or running a child porn ring or both… but POACHNG?!? That’s the highest crime there is in this world…  Gotta hand it to Mark, though, he doesn’t lose his cool…  he gets right to the point.  Jessica’s indignation in panel three is either genuine or a well-practiced reaction to the day when she DOES get confronted about the whole shady enterprise… Genuine only if Marlin practices the Michael Corleone “don’t EVER ask me about my business” approach to family life, otherwise, not so much…

So Ladies and Gentlemen, don’t let that stuffed fish on the wall fool you.  Marlin picked that up at ARC Value Village for a couple of bucks…  and now it is supposed to provide cover for his illegal operation…   Although, I would have enjoyed seeing Marlin stuffing heroin into fish body cavities; that at least would have made this whole thing a little more relevant, a touch more topical…

Smooth, Mark, Real smooth… Like a teenager searching his father’s dresser drawer for a pack of cigarettes (or something…) You didn’t count on the fact that JESSICA LIVES THERE TOO, and the fact that there is a large window into which one can peer into the workshop, and that IT’S BROAD DAYLIGHT…

But what has Mark found?  A LAPTOP!  This has become one of the critical items in any recent MARK TRAIL story arc- along with cameras and fishing gear… Would he even know what to do with one?  Does Mark add hacker to his list of skills??

With a quick Turn of the Trail-Head, Mark sees that he has been FOUND!  Um, errr… what are you going to say now, Mark, does lying become you?  Is it like the Grinch when he tells Cindy-Loo-Who a whopper about a light on the tree that won’t light on one side??

So very glad Mark continues to keep us apprised of his every thought and notion!!  And good for you Mark! as oblivious as you can sometimes be, you realize that following Marlin might be “too obvious…”  Even if you changed the expression on your face from time to time he would still think it  was you!! As Marlin throws the stern drive into overdrive and waits for his boat to plane out, Mark is now back in trespassing mode…  Probable cause?  Illegal search and seizure?  The constitution and Bill of Rights mean nothing in the trailverse!!

A lesson for us all, though… A poacher’s work is never done… lest we think this is an easy life, it’s up early and out the door every  day looking for more poachable stuff…  remember Big Mike and his band had to add trespassing to their rap sheet in order to keep their clients happy…  at some point you poach yourself out of business!

Poor Mark.  His Trail-brain is in overdrive, trying to reconcile the inputs being presented… Pretty girl who helps damaged wildlife recover = GOOD.  Shifty, mysterious man coming and going at all hours mailing packages to Atlanta and points further off with impeccably kept files with pictures revealing poaching activities = BAD.  Yet they are together = ???

But Mark, things are not always as they seem.  Sometimes people maintain double lives, hiding in plain sight… Until they get a little cocky, thinking that their cover is perfect, that no one will ever suspect.  Of course Jessica is in on the Turtle Egg and other wildlife poaching…  She’s the one that keeps the halo burning bright over the island.  She’s the one that keeps people away, that is unless it’s a person with a perverse need to write stories and barge in unannounced…  Remember, this story could have been over before it started if Jessica and Marlin had simply said “no thank you” to Mark’s desire to write an article on them… But what’s the fun in that?

As Mark Trail ponders the deep and thorny questions posed by his latest encounter with evil, it appears that he has his open-bowed, outboard powered boat pointed out to open seas…  Speaking aloud, as usual, to no one but himself and the wind and waves and a random bottlenose, his thoughts turn to the lovely Jessica Canupp, who clearly stirred something in the cold dark recesses of his chamberless heart.  What are those? Feelings?  Well, don’t worry Mark, they too shall pass.

But seriously, running out of gas on the open seas without a paddle is worse than being up the proverbial creek…  turn around Mark!  Oh I know, it’s like worrying over the Millenium Falcon as it navigates the asteroid field…  Every major character is on board, so it’s very unlikely that anything bad will happen…

Great plan, Mark…  Tell Jason Smith all about it, call Doc and tell him nothing, head out to get “more information” and leave instructions to call the police if… if Jason Smith doesn’t hear from you soon??  Poor Jason Smith.  Probably had other visions, other plans in store, when he was in Journalism school- maybe even had thoughts of getting in front of the camera, that is until his hair started leaving him and his incredibly large, round, bald dome made that all but impossible…

I still have to chuckle over the ham-handed way these characters hold a cell phone…  still more like a walkie talkie than a phone…  And Mark looks so pleased with himself in Panel three.  He’s in the zone, on the case, away from his dreaded family.  It’s a minor miracle that he remembered to check in with Doc at all… Rusty?  Rusty who??