"Well, I have some work to do,—scientific work that admits of no delay. You can lay in bed till they call you for breakfast, if you want to," was Holmes's reply, piling out of bed and jerking his clothes on as if he were a fireman answering a fire. Then he took out the magnifying glass that he always carried in his pocket, and a microscope out of our suit-case, pulled a chair over to one of the windows, and began to go over the twelve shoes one by one, first with the magnifying glass and then with the microscope, which was arranged so that objects as large as the shoes could be inspected through it, all the time taking down notes in his little notebook.
I couldn't for the life of me see what he was up to nor what he expected to find from the shoes; and still less could I figure out why he had insisted on our all walking out in the wet grass the morning before.
Every once in a while his eyes would light up with a subdued gleam of triumph, and I knew he was on the trail of something or other. Suddenly he jumped up and jerked the window-shade so that it flew up to the top of the window, then dragged his chair closer to the window, and continued examining the shoes through his two instruments. At length, after more than an hour had passed, he put them down with a deep-drawn sigh of relief, after hastily scribbling a few more notes, and turned to me.
"Well, Doc, what would you say as to the shoes from a cursory examination, without the instruments?" he inquired with a smile.
By this time I, having arisen and dressed, was kind of anxious to see what was going to happen next. I picked up one of the shoes that we had pilfered from Thorneycroft's room, and turned it over in my hands.
"All I can say about it is that this particular shoe ought to be sent to the cobbler's. There's a small hole in the middle of the sole," I said, "and it should also have this smear of red clay wiped off," I added, as I pointed to the stain along the outer side of the shoe.
"Oh, use your bean, Doc, use your bean!" cried Holmes. "Is that all you can detect?"
"Well, that's all there is to detect without your magnifying glass and microscope there," I replied.
"Honestly, Watson, I think you're getting dumber and dumber every day! Think, man, think! Where in this immediate vicinity did you see red clay like that before?" said Holmes. I scratched my head with perplexity, and after a moment it came to me:
"Oh, yes; out behind the stables, near where the horses' stalls are. I remember now having seen the clay there when we were out after Billie Budd yesterday afternoon."