“Sure, but how long ago?”
“Since the last rain. You can see that it has never been wet because the paper would have turned brown if it had and there’s not the least trace of it except at the end where it was in someone’s mouth.”
“I reckon you’re right there, Sherlock,” Jack admitted.
“And Mr. Sleeper doesn’t smoke and Jacques always smokes a pipe. At least I never saw him smoke a cigarette.”
For the better part of an hour they searched the ground all around the place but in vain. No other trace could they find.
“It beats me,” Jack declared finally. “I thought we knew something about woodcraft and all that sort of thing, but the fellow who dropped that stub has us skinned a mile.”
“Unless he dropped it from an air ship,” Bob suggested.
“Are you serious?”
“Hardly. Still I suppose it might have happened that way.”
“Well, let’s go on. We don’t need to be back for a couple of hours.”