“It was two minutes to nine when the taxi stopped,” replied Thorndyke; “and, as it is now only twenty-five minutes to ten, we have good time if Mr. Meade can spare us the taxi. I have the address.” “The taxi is waiting for you,” said Mr. Meade, “and the man has been paid for both journeys. I shall stay here in case the superintendent wants anything.” He shook our hands warmly, and as we bade him farewell and noted the dazed, despairing expression and lines of grief that had already eaten into the face that had been so blithe and hopeful, we both thought bitterly of the few fatal minutes that had made us too late to save the wreckage of his life. We were just turning away when Thorndyke paused and again faced the clergyman. “Can you tell me,” he asked, “whether Miss Fawcett had any pets? Cats, dogs, or other animals?” Meade looked at him in surprise, and Superintendent Miller seemed to prick up his ears. But the former answered simply: “No. She was not very fond of animals; she reserved her affections for men and women.” Thorndyke nodded gravely, and picking up the research-case walked slowly out of the room, Miller and I following. As soon as the address had been given to the driver and we had taken our seats in the taxi, the superintendent opened the examination-in-chief. “I see you have got your box of magic with you, doctor,” he said, cocking his eye at the research-case. “Any luck?” “We have secured a very distinctive footprint,” replied Thorndyke, “but it may have no connexion with the case.” “I hope it has,” said Miller. “A good cast of a footprint which you can let the jury compare with the boot is first-class evidence.” He took the cast, which I had produced from the research-case, and turning it over tenderly and gloatingly, exclaimed: “Beautiful! beautiful! Absolutely distinctive! There can’t be another exactly like it in the world. It is as good as a finger-print. For the Lord’s sake take care of it. It means a conviction if we can find the boot.” The superintendent’s efforts to engage Thorndyke in discussion were not very successful, and the conversational brunt was borne by me. For we both knew my colleague too well to interrupt him if he was disposed to be meditative. And such was now his disposition. Looking at him as he sat in his corner, silent but obviously wrapped in thought, I knew that he was mentally sorting out the data and testing the hypotheses that they yielded. “Here we are,” said Miller, opening the door as the taxi stopped. “Now what are we going to say? Shall I tell him who I am?” “I expect you will have to,” replied Thorndyke, “if you want him to let us in.” “Very well,” said Miller. “But I shall let you do the talking, because I don’t know what you have got up your sleeve.”