"What's up?"
"I don't know yet. But I've found something that the rest seem to have missed. It may be important--come and see."
"You're on, Miss Sherlock," he said. Catching her arm, he hurried with her toward the rear of the bank.
Chapter VII
GROUND TRAILS
Bill unlatched the back door of the bank, pushed it open and stood aside for Dorothy to pass through.
"Wait a minute." She put out a restraining hand. The full glare of the arc light in the alley fell on the damp ground at their feet. "Right over there are the tire marks of the holdup car. It's lucky it rained this afternoon. The prints are perfect in this mud."
"Well, that's interesting, but--"
"Oh, no. Of course they won't solve the mystery. That's what you were going to say, isn't it?" Dorothy's voice was mocking as she looked up at Bill. "But here--see these footprints? From this door to the car?" Her tone was triumphant now. "They ought to help just a little, don't you think?"
But Bill seemed unmoved at her discovery. "Probably hoofmarks of the cops," he said rather disparagingly.
Dorothy laughed. "If those footprints were made by policemen I'll eat them. Where are your eyes, Bill? The cops in this town wear regulation broad-toed shoes. When I heard the traffic cop tell Dad that he'd seen the robbers' car go up the alley, I dashed out here to have a look around. And as soon as I saw these prints I knew they were not made by broad-toed boots. Let's examine them closer."