“Did you recognise them?”
Brown looked confused.
“No, sir, they were too cunning for me. As I crept forward I fell right over on my face. They had stretched a wire across the doorway. When I got up the light was gone, and so were they, and the window open.”
In spite of his annoyance Fletcher laughed.
“Stick to your duties as a village constable, Brown,” he said, “you will never make a detective. Well what happened?”
“I gave chase,” said the rueful constable, “but it was no good, the night was too wild. So I thought I’d better come and see you before reporting it to Sergeant Andrews who is my Chief here.”
Fletcher ignored him for a moment, and took a turn up and down the room.
He glanced at the window and saw the innkeeper, still hanging out his nets.
“All right, Brown,” he said at last “the mischief is done, but I can’t stay here any more. You’d better make a report for Andrews. You saw nothing else?”
“Nothing appeared to have been touched, and they had left nothing behind. I examined the desk, but it seems to have been intact; you know, sir, it has already been searched.”