She hesitated. "He would have been very—very much disturbed."
"You mean he would have been angry?"
"Yes."
The coroner suddenly turned the current of his inquiry. "Do you always wear shoes such as you now have on?"
Every eye in the room was directed toward her feet, which were shod in broad-toed, low-heeled shoes.
She was visibly embarrassed, but she answered, composedly: "I do—yes, sir. In fact, I go barefoot a great deal while working in the garden. The doctor ordered it, and, besides, the ordinary high-heeled shoes seem foolish up here in the mountains."
"Will you be kind enough to remove your shoe? I would like to take some measurements from it."
She flushed slightly, but bent quickly, untied the laces, and removed her right shoe.
The coroner took it. "Please remain where you are, Miss McLaren." Then to the jury, who appreciated fully the importance of the moment, "We will now compare this shoe with the footprints."
"Don't be disturbed, miss," whispered the ranger. "I know the size and shape of those footprints."