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??

Recycled and re-purposed plot-line, characters and artwork.  That’s the way of the Trail.  By today’s strip it’s apparent that Ol’ Jason Smith still doesn’t know how to use a phone…  Although he did change his shirt and get his desk chair recovered…  And Mark, sensing that he is clearly in over his head, calls in the… authorities?  No, the PRESS…  makes perfect sense.  Having done the legwork, complete with trespassing and obtaining sensitive personal information, feels like his work is done here…

Must be the ATLANTA address that Mark wants Jason to follow up on…  since the newspaper budget would never allow him to start making international calls or flight arrangements… Assuming this leads to another byline and a hard hitting, investigative piece, Jason Smith could be in line for a Pulitzer, or at least the equivalent coming from the Woods and Wildlife community… But does Mark take any credit?  Of course not.  That’s not his thing.  Making others look good and saving the environment, that’s what Mark is all about…

OK…  we are back… and the abuses to privacy in the next three strips stagger the imagination.  It’s a damn good thing Mark isn’t nosey about Marlin’s prostate, otherwise the local doctor would no doubt be spilling his guts on that topic… “Marlin? Sure I know him… but you should see his prostate… looks like an angry ugly-fruit…”

But where are we anyway?  A branch of the USPS?  A local shipping agent?  And how does Mark “know” that Marlin is shipping turtle eggs?  And to what end?  Is this a racket where Marlin is filling the coolers and pantries of the world’s top chefs?  “What will he do with the turtle eggs, Dave?”  “Looks like he’s starting to separate them… Turtle egg white soufflé??”

As we continue to advance the story line by introducing all manner of loose-lipped extras, it would seem that Obi-Wan Kenobi and his Jedi powers (“These aren’t the droids you are looking for…”) has nothing on Mark, as he now has moved away from the dock and into the Post Office to piece his story together…

And of course, why not, here’s a list of all the people he ships his packages to…  “Can’t see the harm, you look honest enough, and quite frankly, it never occurred to me that I might be forfeiting sensitive, personal information about a US citizen which has been entrusted to me…”  I guess there is a lesson in this for all of us… JUST ASK… even if, unlike Mark Trail, you might suspect you have no right to the information…  JUST ASK.  That’ll be my new motto…

Greeeeaaaat…. more poaching action…  As usual it makes no sense.  It would seem that Marlin has a penchant for record keeping… since he feels compelled to keep complete files on all of his illegal activities.  I can only imagine the picture he has of one of his clients holding a basket full of ill-gotten Sea Turtle eggs- caption: “24 June 2013- What a Haul!”  Turtle egg envy all around…

Meanwhile the Pelicans gather in the shallows around the island rooting Mark on, knowing that their benefactor Jessica can’t hold on much longer, that they will be next…

Mark exclaims with confidence… and again, his nerve is on display.  I mean, what on earth does he think gives him the right to poke around in other peoples’ stuff?!?  As long as Marlin is “apparently” not coming your way, let’s stick your big fat nose into his files! It’s one thing if a loud “WHAM” is going on outside your bedroom window, then by all means you have the right to go investigate and see who may be poaching or doing something else nefarious… ON YOUR PROPERTY…  But this is over the top.  Let me motor back onto private property and start digging into stuff? 

And Mark, seriously, since when can you claim to have anything that resembles a “feeling?”  I am not buying it.

Personal boundaries?  Property rights?  Sovereign integrity?  They mean nothing in the Trailverse.

And what exactly is the tip-off to you Mark?  Regarding the observation that “none of this taxidermy equipment looks like it has ever been used!”  Is it still in the shrink wrap?  No fish scales about??  It would certainly explain why “Marlin” gave you the ol’ brush-off… Too Busy, huh? Well, it appears that he is busy with things OTHER THAN TAXIDERMY…  this plot is now thicker than Candy-apple-syrup…