“Chief, don't call up your office for several hours. Get your coroner if you must, but try and get him out here without any one knowing what has taken place.”
As the chief turned a puzzled face in his direction and started to protest, Bartley continued:
“I have my reasons, Chief, and they are good. If you keep this thing still for several hours, I have an idea I can come pretty close to putting my hand on the murderer.”
We all gave him a startled glance. So far as I could see, not only was Warren's murder destined to become one of the unsolved crimes, but this deepened the mystery. There had been no apparent reason for Warren's death, for the gardener's there was none at all. True, Bartley had said the gardener had been killed in mistake for Patton; but there was no reason in the world why any person should have wished to kill Patton. But here was Bartley calmly saying that he thought he might be able to discover the murderer. And it needed only one look at his set face to know he was sincere in his belief.
Puzzled, though not protesting, the chief agreed to what Bartley had asked, and then turned again to the house. Telling him we would be with him in a few moments, we watched the heavy figure ascend the steps and vanish within the room. Then, when he had passed from our sight, Bartley said:
“Twice we have heard about a boat in connection with this affair. Now, if the murderer wished to enter the grounds without being seen, it is reasonable to assume he used a boat. The traces of mud that we found show he was in some water. With this dry weather we are having water is hard to find.”
With that he started across the lawn and down through the trees. The estate ended by the lake, which was several hundred feet away. Along the edges of the water low-hanging willow trees formed a leafy green screen. The trees were rather close together; a person could have landed on the shore without much chance of being seen by any one who was a few feet away.
We pushed through the branches to find that the shore line was several feet below the grass embankment. Below the grass a soft silt formed the shore, and the water was very shallow for some yards out. As I turned and looked through the low branches—branches which in places dropped below the bank and almost touched the water—I discovered that I could not see the library.
By the water's edge we scattered. Carter and I went down the grass to our right, while Bartley and Ranville followed the shore in the direction to where the wall ended at the water. We had not taken more than four steps when there came Bartley's voice, and we hurried to where he and Ranville were standing.
They were several feet away from the wall. It came, not only down to the water, but extended a few feet into the lake. The heavy stones had caused the water to hollow out a little curve just inside the estate. It was here that Bartley was pointing. Below us the soft silt—almost mud—extended for several feet into the lake. And there was no doubt, from a deep impression in the mud, that a boat had been run ashore at this very spot. Not only could one see where the boat had landed, but what is more, where some one had jumped for the shore, missed the bank, and had placed one foot in the silt.