Then the footmarks went off at right angles; four long strides—and they stopped behind the broken wall, where the man seemed to have stood still. Danny searched all round, but the footmarks did not go any further. And yet there was no cover here!
He walked in a circle round the spot at about five yards’ distance, but no tracks were to be seen. Danny the Detective was sorely puzzled. But, returning to the place by the wall where the man had stood, he suddenly saw what he had missed before. The footprints did leave the spot, but they went straight back to the pond-side, treading almost where the first footprints showed!
He followed them up. But at the water’s edge he was as puzzled as he had been at the wall. The footprints did not lead away!
Danny was stumped. There was nothing more to be done. It seemed a mystery with no solution—a riddle with no answer. He determined to put the matter into the hands of wiser people than he.
Squatting on the old wall he wrote in his notebook an account of what had passed. Then he set off homewards. At the Pack Headquarters, he found Fred Codding, his Sixer, ramping on the step.
“You little rotter!” he cried, as soon as he saw Danny. “What did you want to fall out for, and then play about and not come back? All the other chaps have gone back to tea. But when we found that you were not at your house I was told to wait here and report to Mr. Fox if you were not back by 6.30.”
“Awfully sorry, Fred,” said Danny, “but I wasn’t playing about. I was having a wonderful adventure. I——”
“Oh, shut up!” said Fred, impatiently. “We know all about your ‘adventures.’”
“But this is truth,” said Danny, in despair. “A most extraordinary thing happened——”
“Dry up!” said Fred.