“Gee! half a minute, chief,” Patsy now cried, interrupting. “Yes, I’m right. Here’s the print of a bare foot.”
Patsy had discovered it in some loose earth near the garage and hastened to inspect it. There was no mistaking it, for it was distinctly outlined in the damp soil, and it showed plainly in which direction the man was going.
“He was heading for the house, chief, just as you have suspected,” Patsy added, turning to look for another.
“I was sure he would seek some dwelling,” Nick replied. “Which one was the only question. It naturally would be the one most safely and quickly approached, and that was why I came this way. We’ll inquire whether anything has been stolen, or—hello! some one is calling my name. By Jove, it’s Senator Barclay. That explains it. I thought I recognized this place, though I have called here only twice.”
“Gee! he’s some excited, chief,” said Patsy. “I guess you have hit the nail on the head, all right.”
Senator Barclay, who had emerged from a side door of the house, had been hurrying toward them while they were speaking. He was hatless and wore a loose velvet smoking jacket, and he looked pale and excited, indeed, in the morning sunlight.
“I saw you from the library window, Nick,” he cried, upon drawing nearer. “What brought you here? I’ve been trying vainly to get you by telephone. I was told that you left the Willard before breakfast.”
“So I did,” Nick replied, shaking hands with him. “I was called out on a rather curious case. But what do you want of me, Senator Barclay, and why are you so disturbed?” he added tentatively.
“I have cause to be disturbed, most serious cause,” Senator Barclay answered, with an effort to govern his feelings. “I will tell you of that a little later. My house has been robbed—a most amazing robbery.”
“Why amazing, senator?[{21}]”