“This is Molly Clayton, I take it?” he said, indicating the prints of a woman's foot.
“Yes,” assented Wessex. “You'll notice that they stood for some little time and then walked off, very close together.”
Harley nodded absently.
“We lose them along here,” continued Wessex, leading up the lane; “but at the corner by the big haystack they join up with the tracks of a motor-car! I ask for nothing clearer! There was rain that afternoon, but there's been none since.”
“What does the Captain's man think?”
“The same as I do! He's not surprised at any madness on Vane's part, with a pretty woman in the case!”
“The girl left nothing behind—no note?”
“Nothing.”
“Traced the car?”
“No. It must have been hired or borrowed from a long distance off.”