and Mr. Meadows took the whole thing in charge. The door had
been broken open. They examined the marks about the fractures
very carefully; then they went inside. There were some naked
footprints. They were small, as of a little, cramped foot, and
they seemed to be tracked in blood on the hard oak floor. There
was a wax candle partly burned on the table. And that's all
there was.

"There were some tracks in the dust of the floor, but they were
not very clearly outlined, and Sir Henry thought nothing could be
made of them.

"It was awfully exciting. I went about behind the two men. Sir
Henry talked all the time. Mr. Meadows was quite as much
interested, but he didn't say anything. He seemed to say less as
the thing went on.

"They went over everything - the ground outside and every inch of
the house. Then they put everybody out and sat down by a table
in the room where the footprints were.

"Sir Henry had been awfully careful. He had a big lens with
which to examine the marks of the bloody footprints. He was like
a man on the trail of a buried treasure. He shouted over
everything, thrust his glass into Mr. Meadows' hand and bade him
verify what he had seen. His ardor was infectious. I caught it
myself.

"Mr. Meadows, in his quiet manner, was just as much concerned in
unraveling the thing as Sir Henry. I never had so wild a time in