"Then your question's easy to answer." Mr. Rogers turned back the
lapel and pointed. The pocket hung inside out. "But what was it he
carried?"

I hesitated, with another glance towards Mr. Goodfellow, who at the
same moment uttered a cry and sprang for a thicket of brambles
directly behind Mr. Rogers's back. Mr. Rogers leapt up, with an
oath.

"No, you don't!" he threatened, preparing to spring in pursuit.

But Mr. Goodfellow, not heeding him, plunged a hand among the
brambles and drew forth a walking-stick of ebony, carved in rings,
ending with a ferrule in an iron spike--Captain Coffin's
walking-stick.

"I glimpsed at it, there, lyin' like a snake," he began, and let fall
the stick with another sudden, sharp cry. "Ur-rh! There's blood
upon it!"

Mr. Rogers picked it up and examined it loathingly. Blood there
was--blood mixed with grey hairs upon its heavy ebony knob, and blood
again upon its wicked-looking spike.

"This settles all question of the weapon," he said. "The owner of
this--"

We cried out, speaking together, that the stick belonged to the
murdered man; and just then a voice hailed us, and Constable Hosken
came panting up, with two of Miss Belcher's woodmen at his heels.