Not merely was the right foot-track different from that of the
left, but the way in which its owner put it to the ground must have been
different also. The one mark was clear and distinct, cut out in the snow
with a firm tread, while the other left a little broken bank at its
right edge, and scarcely any impression of the heel.
"Slightly lame," I decided. "Eases his right foot, and has his boots
made to order."
"It is very odd," I remarked aloud to Mrs. Stott.
"That it is, sir," she answered; adding, "I hope to gracious none of
them mobsmen are going to come burglaring here!" "Pooh!" I replied;
"there is nothing for them to steal, except chairs and tables, and I
don't think one man could carry many of them away."
The whole of that day I found my thoughts reverting to those foot-marks
in the snow. What purpose anyone proposed to serve by prowling about
River Hall I could not imagine. Before taking up my residence in the
Uninhabited House, I had a theory that some malicious person or persons
was trying to keep the place unoccupied--nay, further, imagination
suggested the idea that, owing to its proximity to the river, Mr.
Elmsdale's Hall might have taken the fancy of a gang of smugglers, who
had provided for themselves means of ingress and egress unknown to the
outside world.
Pages:
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143