The men merged into the darkness by the gate.
Garth took Nora's arm, and, circling the house at a distance, reached the stone building by the stream. He entered, sniffing suspiciously. When he had closed the door he took his flashlight from his pocket and pressed the control.
"Don't move around, Nora."
Quickly he examined the confusion of footprints. It impressed him at once as significant that none strayed far from the threshold. The damp floor farther in was disturbed only by a long, irregular depression modelled, he knew, by a body, lying prone.
"Think of lying there, Nora," he said. "I'd have preferred standing indefinitely. And why didn't he move around?"
Nora's teeth chattered.
"It's bitter cold in here."
Garth's face set.
"And a fastidious man like the doctor lies here all night and most of the day. Then let's see."
He went outside and ran his light over the lines of footprints which converged at the door. One set straggled unevenly up the stream. With an exclamation he followed it along the bank until it swung close to the water. He stooped. His lamp moved searchingly about the bottom of the shallow creek. Nora bent over his shoulder.