A picture paints … well, as many words as you like. For instance:
“I saw him go this way,” Joe said, his face flushed from the effort chasing his quarry.
It was like playing a game of hide and seek, but the stakes were a lot higher. When we found whom we were seeking, matters could end very badly.
“Towards the Orangery, or behind the trees,” I asked, having come from the opposite direction, but not seeing him.
“He went behind the trees, and then towards the building.”
“Right. You go to the Orangery down the path and I’ll take the trees.”
“Go. We’re wasting time, and he’s getting away.”
Fortunately, there were few people around at this time, but it could have been worse if this was happening an hour later.
I tentatively headed towards the first tree and edged around it, trying not to look like someone edging around a tree expecting to be attacked…
…by a squirrel.
Two or three of them. No sign of the man we were chasing. Perhaps he was in disguise.