The party halted, and Hanslet bent down to examine the path. The sand was in admirable condition to receive and retain an impression; firm enough to resist the force of the wind, yet not too hard to take even the lightest imprints. Hanslet, kneeling in the heather by the side of the path, looked at it closely.
“You’ve mistaken the spot, Professor,” he said at last. “There are no tracks here. It doesn’t look as if anybody had passed along here for a long time.”
The Professor frowned. “I do not usually mistake a spot which I wish to remember,” he replied. “However, it was nearly dark when I left it, and I may have made an error of a few yards. As you can see, this track leads straight to those ruined walls, which are the remains of Morlandson’s laboratory. It was in that direction that the man made off. If you follow the path, you are sure to find the tracks further along.”
They resumed their way, Hanslet examining every foot of the path as they proceeded. It was not until they reached the ruined posts which had marked the limits of the front garden that Hanslet turned and looked anxiously at the Professor.
“You are quite sure that this was the path he followed?” he asked. “I can’t see any tracks along it at all, either of your feet or of the bicycle.”
“Perfectly certain,” replied the Professor stiffly. “I am not likely to mistake it, especially as it would appear to be the only path in the vicinity.”
Hanslet nodded, and made his way through the tangled vegetation towards the ruins of the cottage. He walked carefully round the mound, then proceeded to the broken walls of the laboratory. He gazed at these for a minute or two, then turned towards his companions, who had remained on the path.
“I wish you would come here a minute, will you, Mr. Merefield?” he called.
Harold obeyed his summons, and Hanslet led him round an angle of the walls, out of sight of the Professor. “Has he been overdoing it a bit lately?” he asked in a low tone. “Overworking himself, or anything like that, I mean? I thought he looked pretty well done up when I first saw him the other evening.”
“Well, he’s hardly been outside the house for the last six months,” replied Harold. “He’s been busy with a new book, and I think it took it out of him a good deal. Why?”