There, in the soil was the imprint of a foot, and in the center of it was the mark of an arrow worked in hob nails.
“The man who robbed my father’s store!” exclaimed Ned.
“Or one with the same kind of shoes,” added Jerry.
“There would hardly be two alike,” spoke Ned. “I’m sure it’s the same one.”
“How can you be?” asked Jerry.
“Because I noticed that in the prints in the dust on the window sill,” replied Ned, “that there was a nail missing from the shaft of the arrow. See, there is a nail out in this one,” and he showed his companion that this was so.
Jerry bent closer to the print.
“You’re right!” he said. “This mystery is deepening. But the prints might have been there for some time.”
“No,” said Ned. “It rained after we went to bed last night. Not much, but a shower sufficient to make mud. That print was made after the rain.”
“Then the man was spying on us,” said Jerry.