“Lady won’t let me on ice,” the doctor answered. “Search, old girl.”
The dog winnowed through the snow, back and forth, ever advancing. The quest took them past the house, on past the summer kitchen. Suddenly the animal, no longer advancing, began to dig in the snow with her paws.
“She’s found something,” Joe cried.
Out from under the snow Lady dragged a hat. Captain Tucker seized it eagerly.
“It’s Boothy’s, Doctor. Here are his initials. B. W.”
The doctor asked a question. “Where are we, Joe?”
Joe’s throat ached. “On the driveway to the barn.”
“Doesn’t it strike you as strange, Captain, that Boothy’s hat should be found here?”
“What’s strange about it? Isn’t this the driveway?”
“That’s exactly what’s strange about it,” the blind man answered. “If somebody wanted to dispose of a body would he drag it through the open or would he seek cover? Might not the hat have been left here to be found?”