“There's another set of tracks which we couldn't see from the place we were,” he said, pointing. “Behind that groyne running down towards the rock. The groyne was in the line of sight up above, but we've moved to the left a bit and you can just see one or two footprints. Over yonder, inspector. You'd better fill them in when we get to the road and have a clear sight of them.”
The inspector completed his diagram, and handed it to his companions in turn for verification.
“We may as well start with this track,” Sir Clinton suggested. “It's a fairly short one, and seems isolated from all the others by the groyne.”
He stepped down on to the sand, taking care to keep well away from the footmarks; and his companions followed his track. They walked on a line parallel to the footprints, which ran close under the groyne. At first the marks were hardly defined; but suddenly they grew sharp.
“This is where he hit the sand wetted by the tide, obviously,” said Wendover. “But the trail looks a bit curious—not quite like a normal man's walk.”
“Suppose he'd been crouching under the groyne as he went along,” Sir Clinton suggested. “Wouldn't that account for it? Look!”
He moved on to a piece of untouched sand, bent almost double, and began to move cautiously along. Wendover and the inspector had to admit that his tracks were very like those of the trail beside the groyne.
“Somebody spying on the people on the rock?” Wendover hazarded. “If you can get hold of him, Clinton, he ought to be a useful witness.”
The inspector stooped over the footprints and scanned them closely.