“I never suspected you of boots like the ones that made those prints, Mr. Leslie. But I wanted to make sure that they were not the carter’s. There’s been no rain for three days and those marks may have been there some time, provided the bed hasn’t been raked over lately.” “As for that, I raked it over myself yesterday morning; but that doesn’t tell you much, I suppose, as they might have been made any time afterwards.” In spite of his fatigue and distaste for the whole business, Leslie was beginning to grow interested. Brace flashed his lantern on the brick path that led across the front of the house. “Nothing there, unfortunately, but there’s something I’d like to show you over here.” Leslie followed him to the barn. Here the footsteps were distinctly discernible on the earthen floor, but less clearly defined and, in some cases, blurred in a manner that suggested that the walker had crossed his own tracks. But they led quite obviously to the foot of the ladder up to the loft. Brace went on ahead up the ladder. “Here’s something you might be able to help us with,” he said as they reached the top. He pointed to the straw in the corner. “That’s been slept on lately, and look at this.” He indicated a couple of dirty rags that looked as though they might have been used as bandages, except that they were bare of any stain. “Probably some tramp. I’ve had them in here more than once in cold weather,” said Leslie. “It’s a tramp, right enough. Those are the rags they mostly bind their feet up with instead of socks. They stick to them, too, as a rule. Looks as if this chap must have been disturbed and left in a hurry. It’s probably his footsteps under the window. You don’t recall turning a tramp out of the barn any time lately?” Leslie shook his head. “I don’t think I ever have turned one off. I sometimes find their traces in the morning, but, even if I knew one of them was here, I should probably wink at it and let him stay. The fowls are all securely locked up and the tramps round here are a harmless lot, as a rule, so long as they don’t smoke in the straw and fire the old place. It wouldn’t be much loss if they did. It’s not even weather-tight.” “You haven’t seen one hanging round the last day or so?” “No. They don’t hang round much in the daytime, anyhow, because of the dog. They slip in at night after he’s chained up.” “He’s a sound sleeper, that dog!” commented Brace. “We’ve made noise enough and he hasn’t stirred.” “He’s not here. I had intended to go to London to-night, so I took him down to the Greys this morning.” “And then didn’t go, after all?” “I shouldn’t be here now if I had,” said Leslie wearily. “I had a wire saying I wasn’t wanted, after all.” “What was the appointment, if I may ask?” Leslie was tickled, in spite of himself. His irritation was beginning to wear off, no doubt due to the coffee which had begun to allay his fatigue.