man in it--there is only one set of footprints besides those of the
deceased--and we've got to find out who he is; and I reckon there won't
be much trouble about that, seeing the kind of trade-marks he has left
behind him."

"No," agreed the surgeon; "there ought not to be much trouble in
identifying those boots. He would seem to be a labourer, judging by the
hob-nails."

"No, sir; not a labourer," dissented the sergeant. "The foot is too
small, for one thing; and then the nails are not regular hob-nails.
They're a good deal smaller; and a labourer's boots would have the nails
all round the edges, and there would be iron tips on the heels, and
probably on the toes too. Now these have got no tips, and the nails are
arranged in a pattern on the soles and heels. They are probably
shooting-boots or sporting shoes of some kind." He strode to and fro
with his notebook in his hand, writing down hasty memoranda, and
stooping to scrutinize the impressions in the sand. The surgeon also
busied himself in noting down the facts concerning which he would have
to give evidence, while Thorndyke regarded in silence and with an air of
intense preoccupation the footprints around the body which remained to
testify to the circumstances of the crime.

"It is pretty clear, up to a certain point," the sergeant observed, as
he concluded his investigations, "how the affair happened, and it is
pretty clear, too, that the murder was premeditated. You see, Doctor,
the deceased gentleman, Mr. Hearn, was apparently walking home from Port
Marston; we saw his footprints along the shore--those rubber heels make
them easy to identify--and he didn't go down Sundersley Gap. He
probably meant to climb up the cliff by that little track that you see