Then I said, "The only thing I have noticed which might be a clue is this: when I first came in through the kitchen I discovered a clod of fresh clay dirt on the back stairs.

I supposed it had dropped from Le Gaire's boots.

But there's no sign of yellow clay on his boots now.

It must have been some one else." "Trailin' the poor devil," ejaculated Miles.

"But who was he?
An' where is he now ?" None attempted a guess, looking blankly into each others' faces, and down upon the ghastly features of the dead man.