Part 8 (1/2)

”Mr. Fenley should warn all his servants to speak fully and candidly,”

said Winter. ”Then we shall question the witnesses separately. What do you think? Shall we start now?”

”First, the boots,” cried Furneaux, seemingly voicing a thought. ”We want a worn pair of boots belonging to each person in the house and employed on the estate, men and women, no exceptions, including the dead man's. Then we'll visit that wood. After that, the inquiry.”

Winter nodded. When Furneaux and he were in pursuit of a criminal they dropped all nice distinctions of rank. If one made a suggestion the other adopted it without comment unless he could urge some convincing argument against it.

”Mr. Fenley should give his orders now,” added Furneaux.

Winter explained his wishes to the nominal head of the household, and Fenley's compliance was ready and explicit.

”These gentlemen from Scotland Yard are acting in behalf of Mrs.

Fenley, my brother and myself,” he said to the a.s.sembled servants.

”You must obey them as you would obey me. I place matters unreservedly in their hands.”

”And our questions should be answered without reserve,” put in Winter.

”Yes, of course. I implied that. At any rate, it is clear now.”

”Brodie,” said Furneaux, seeming to pounce on the chauffeur, ”you were seated at the wheel when the shot was fired?”

”Ye--yes, sir,” stuttered Brodie, rather taken aback by the little man's suddenness.

”Were you looking at the wood?”

”In a sort of a way, sir.”

”Did you see any one among the trees?”

”No, sir, that I didn't.” This more confidently.

”Place your car where it was stationed then. Take your seat, and try to imagine that you are waiting for your master. Start the engine, and behave exactly as though you expected him to enter the car. Don't watch the wood. I mean that you are not to avoid looking at it, but just throw yourself back to the condition of mind you were in at nine twenty-five this morning. Can you manage that?”

”I think so, sir.”

”No chatting with others, you know. Fancy you are about to take Mr.

Fenley to the station. If you should happen to see me, wave your hand.

Then you can get down and stop the engine. You understand you are not to keep a sharp lookout for me?”

”Yes, sir.”

The butler thought it would take a quarter of an hour to collect sample pairs of boots from the house and outlying cottages. Police Constable Farrow was instructed to bring the butler and the array of boots to the place where the footprints were found, and Bates led the detectives and the Inspector thither at once.

Soon the four men were gazing at the telltale marks, and the Inspector, of course, was ready with a shrewd comment.

”Whoever it was that came this way, he didn't take much trouble to hide his tracks,” he said.

The Scotland Yard experts were so obviously impressed that the Inspector tried a higher flight.

”They're a man's boots,” he continued. ”We needn't have worried Tomlinson to gather the maids' footgear.”