“Surely,” began the young doctor, “you don’t believe that Bruce-”
“No, I don’t believe it,” interrupted the reporter; “but it’s a hypothesis we’ve got to consider. Suppose Bruce and Serdholm recognised this man Petersen as an enemy, and Bruce slipped a knife into him as he took him from the buoy?”
“But I thought Petersen was killed halfway to the shore.”
“So we suppose; but it is partly on the testimony of these two that we believe it, corroborated by circumstantial evidence. Now, if Bruce killed the sailor, Serdholm knew it. The two guards quarrelled and fought. Bruce had reason to fear Serdholm. There’s the motive for the murder of Serdholm. He met him alone—there is opportunity. I think the case against him is stronger than that against Whalley, in this instance. I’ve looked into his movements on the night of the sheep-killing and the murder of Mr. Ely. He was out on the former, and in on the latter.”
“That weakens the case,” said Everard Colton. “Yes; but what ruins the case against both Bruce and Whalley in the killing of Serdholm is this.” Haynes spread out on his table a map which he had drawn. “There is the situation, sketched on the spot. You will see that there are no footprints other than our own leading to or going down from the body. Gentlemen, as sure as my name is Haynes, the thing that killed Paul Serdholm never walked on human feet!”
There was a dead silence in the room. Dick Colton’s eyes, narrowed to a mere slit, were fixed on the reporter’s face. Johnston’s jaw dropped and hung. Everard Colton gave a little nervous laugh. Professor Ravenden bent over the map and studied it with calm interest.
“No,” continued Haynes, “I’m perfectly sane. There are the facts. I’d like to see anyone make anything else out of it.”
“There is only one other solution,” said Professor Ravenden presently: “the fallibility of the human senses. May I venture to suggest again that there may be evidences present which you, in your natural perturbation, failed to note?”
“No,” said the reporter positively. “I know my business. I missed nothing. Here’s one thing I didn’t fail to note. Johnston, you know this neck of land?”
“Lived here for fifty-seven years,” said the innkeeper.