Chick arose and faced his chief with excitement showing in his manner.
“They are not here,” he said. “What does it mean?”
“There are the marks of stockinged feet,” suggested Nick.
“But these two sets of tracks are the same,” said the assistant, “and were, of course, made by Anton. You have, I think, the socks he wore last night in your pocket,” added Chick, with a smile. “Suppose we compare them with the tracks?”
“You saw what I took from under the bed, then?”
“Certainly. I had had my eyes on them for some time.”
Nick took the socks from his pocket. They fitted the tracks exactly.
“You see,” said Chick, “the burglars never left that back room. Now, who murdered Alvin Maynard? Who stole Charley Maynard’s diamonds?”
What Chick stated was the truth. There were no indications that the burglars had left the threshold of Anton’s room. And yet the old man had been murdered at the other end of the hall and the diamonds had been stolen from a room which could be reached only by way of the hall!