“I mean we'll have to eliminate other possibilities. Billingford is one. I hope to throw some light on that point to-night, inspector, about midnight. And that reminds me, you might get the light ready to throw—a couple of good flash-lamps will be enough, I think. Bring them along here about 11.30 p.m. and ask for me. Then there's the dame with the neat shoe. She's a loose end in the tangle. . . .” “I've been looking into that, sir.” Sir Clinton's approval was obviously genuine. “Really, inspector, you've done remarkably well in the short time you've had. That's good work indeed. And what are the results?” The inspector's face showed they had not been altogether satisfactory. “Well, sir, that footprint wasn't made by any of the hotel visitors. I've gone into it fully. Only three ladies here wear 3½'s: Miss Hamilton, Mrs. Rivel, and Miss Staunton. The footprint in the mud up at the cottage was made between nine and ten o'clock last night. Between those hours, Miss Hamilton was dancing—I've even a note of her partner's name. She's the best dancer, it seems; and a lot of people were watching her for the pleasure of it. So she's cleared. Mrs. Rivel was playing bridge from immediately after dinner until half-past eleven; so it couldn't be her. And Miss Staunton twisted her ankle on the links yesterday and had Dr. Rafford up to look at it. She's hobbling about with a stick, sir; and as there was no sign of a limp on the tracks, that clears her.” Sir Clinton considered the evidence without vocal comment. The inspector, anxious to prove his zeal, continued: “Just to make sure, I went over all the small-sized shoes. About half a dozen ladies wear 4's: Miss Auston, Mrs. Wickham, Mrs. Fleetwood, Miss Fairford, that foreign lady with the double-barrelled name, Miss Leighton, and Miss Stanmore—the younger Miss Stanmore, I mean. But as it's a 3½ shoe by the measurements I took, they're all out of it. I'm making some quiet inquiries in the village, sir. It looks as if it might have been some local girl, from what we heard about Staveley's habits. I'll report as soon as anything turns up.” Sir Clinton had listened patiently to the inspector's recital, but his next speech seemed to suggest that his attention had been wandering. “I think you'd better get some more constables over, inspector. Let 'em come in plain clothes and don't advertise them. And you can turn Sapcote on to watch that crowd at Flatt's cottage. I've just developed an interest in the fourth man—‘who would answer to “Hi!” or to any loud cry,’ as it says in _The Hunting of the Snark_. It's the merest try-on; but I shouldn't be surprised to learn that he's back again at the cottage. And, by the way, the two fishermen must have seen him when they went to borrow the boat. You might get a description of him from them.” “Very good, sir.” “And there's a final point, inspector. I don't want to overburden you, but what about the Peter Hay case? Anything further?”