Kingston called the Professor’s attention to footprints in the carpet near the fireplace. As he fitted his shoe to an impression, he said, ‘These are mine, and those, of course, must be Watkins’s.’
‘Throw me your shoe,’ called Fordney to the butler, standing in the doorway. ‘Yes, these are yours all right, and I can see the third set was made by the Judge—notice the impression left by his peculiarly constructed right shoe.’
‘There’s the gun under the table,’ called the butler.
‘Pretty sharp eyes, Watkins,’ said the Professor, picking up and critically examining the gun. ‘No finger-prints, of course,’ he mused.
‘Look!’ exclaimed Kingston, ‘the glass in that picture is broken. Were two shots fired?’
‘Only one,’ said Fordney, as with great care he picked the Judge’s nose-glasses from his lap where they had fallen, unbroken. ‘I think I know now who murdered your uncle.’
[Whom did Fordney suspect, and why?]
26
Lost at Sea
‘Tell us exactly what happened,’ said Professor Fordney as he sat in his study with Mrs. Rollins.
‘It was a dark, moonless night.