neap-tide, high-water mark, where they end abruptly. The sea has washed
over the remainder of the tracks and obliterated them. Therefore he
passed not less than three hours and not more than four days
ago--probably within twenty-four hours."

As Thorndyke concluded his demonstration the sound of voices was borne
to us from above, mingled with the tramping of feet, and immediately
afterwards a very singular party appeared at the head of the gap
descending towards the shore. First came a short burly fisherman clad in
oilskins and sou'-wester, clumping along awkwardly in his great
sea-boots, then the local police-sergeant in company with my
professional rival Dr. Burrows, while the rear of the procession was
brought up by two constables carrying a stretcher. As he reached the
bottom of the gap the fisherman, who was evidently acting as guide,
turned along the shore, retracing his own tracks, and the procession
followed in his wake.

"A surgeon, a stretcher, two constables, and a police-sergeant,"
observed Thorndyke. "What does that suggest to your mind, Jervis?"

"A fall from the cliff," I replied, "or a body washed up on the shore."

"Probably," he rejoined; "but we may as well walk in that direction."

We turned to follow the retreating procession, and as we strode along
the smooth surface left by the retiring tide Thorndyke resumed:

"The subject of footprints has always interested me deeply for two
reasons. First, the evidence furnished by footprints is constantly being
brought forward, and is often of cardinal importance; and, secondly, the