He proceeded with his inspection of the ground, striking off toward the front of the house as though following a trail. Bat lost sight of him for a few moments; then, as he, too, reached the front of the house, he saw the other standing, his hands in his pockets, a puzzled look on his face.
"Well," said Scanlon, "what now?"
"Suppose we have a look at the other side of the building," replied the other.
Here the police had also done some going to and fro; the broad foot of Osborne was distinctly marked everywhere.
"And here is the sergeant's," said Ashton-Kirk, pointing. "The policeman's shoe is not to be mistaken, and Sergeant Nailor always wears soles that have been pegged."
Under one of the windows the investigator came to a halt. It was a window smaller than any of the others and much higher in the wall. Beneath it was a cellar opening with an iron grating.
"Look there," said the investigator, as he pointed to this latter.
Bat Scanlon looked, and saw a little ridge of mud upon one of the bars.
"From some one's foot," declared he. "It scraped off on the grating when they climbed up on it, maybe to reach the window."
Ashton-Kirk studied the particles clinging to the bar with much interest, an eager look in his eyes.