I now saw it. The hoof-marks of the horse had displaced the dust
where it had several times changed position.

"And that's not all," Marquis continued. "Something has happened
to the cut-under here!"

I was now closely beside him.

"It was broken down, perhaps, or some accident to the harness?"

"No," he replied. "The wheel tracks are here broadened, as
though they had skidded on a turn. This would mean little if the
cut-under had been moving at the time. But it was not moving;
the horse was standing. The cut-under had stopped."

He went on as though in a reflection to himself.

"The vehicle must have been violently thrown about here, by
something."

I had a sudden inspiration.

"I see it!" I cried. "The horse took fright, stopped, and then
bolted; there has been a run-away. That accounts for the turn
out. Let's hurry!"

But Marquis detained me with a firm hand on my arm.

"No," he said, "the horse was not running when it turned out and
it did not stop here in fright. The horse was entirely quiet