It was something which moved with the wind like a wounded bird, fluttering from the roadside to a puddle and then back to the rushes.

She advanced to it, missed it, and caught it.
It was an old dingy green felt hat, and she recognized it as Dickson's.
Mrs.Morran's brain, after a second of confusion, worked fast and clearly.

She examined the road and saw that a little way on the gravel had been violently agitated.

She detected several prints of hobnailed boots.

There were prints, too, on a patch of peat on the south side behind a tall bank of sods.