"By the way, Mr. Bristow," he suggested, "wouldn't it be a good idea for us to search the yard and garden back of this house?"
"What for?"
"There's always the chance that the murderer, in running away, dropped something, even a part of the plunder. Then, too, remember the buttons."
"Yes; I see what you mean, but it's getting late now. The light's none too good—and I'm tired, chief, tired out. Suppose we let that go until tomorrow—or you do it alone."
"No; I'll wait for you tomorrow. We can do it together."
"Oh," Bristow asked, as if suddenly remembering an important item, "what kind of shoes is Perry wearing?"
"An old pair of high-topped tennis shoes—black canvas."
"Rubber soles?"
"Yes."
"I'm sorry," observed Bristow. "That's another complication. Morley wore rubbers last night. Either he or Perry might have made that footprint on the porch."