“By heaven, Watson, I believe that I’ve got it!” he cried. “Yes, yes, it must be so. Watson, do you remember seeing any cow-tracks to-day?”
“Yes, several.”
“Where?”
“Well, everywhere. They were at the morass, and again on the path, and again near where poor Heidegger met his death.”
“Exactly. Well, now, Watson, how many cows did you see on the moor?”
“I don’t remember seeing any.”
“Strange, Watson, that we should see tracks all along our line, but never a cow on the whole moor. Very strange, Watson, eh?”
“Yes, it is strange.”
“Now, Watson, make an effort, throw your mind back. Can you see those tracks upon the path?”
“Yes, I can.”