“That is, perhaps, why he went out of the window,” observed Average Jones, indicating certain marks on the sill. Swinging his feet over, he stepped upon the roof of the porch, and peered at the ground below.
“And down the lightning rod,” he added.
For a moment he stood meditating. “The ground is now frozen hard,” he said presently. “Bailey’s footprints where he landed are deeply marked. Therefore the soil must have been pretty soft at the time.”
“Very,” agreed the clergyman. “There had been a three-day downpour, up to the evening of Bailey’s disappearance. About nine o’clock the wind shift to the northeast, and everything froze hard. There has been no thaw since.”
“You seem very clear on these points, Mr. Prentice.”
“I noted them specially, having in mind to write a paper on the meteorite for the Congregationalist.”
“Ah! Perhaps you could tell me, then, how soon after the meteor’s fall, the barn yonder was discovered to be afire?”
“Almost instantly. It was in full blaze within very short time after.”
“How short? Five minutes or so?”
“Not so much. Certainly not more than two.”