Higgins nodded. “Hardly a lad. Twenty-four.”
“But still in college,” the G-man sighed. “That keeps ’em young. One minute they can act like wise old professors. The next, fall apart like adolescents.”
Higgins’ grin was quick. “Well, Bogan is different. And he’s all right. They had him in a hospital soon after midnight. Eleven stitches.”
“Any tree bark in the wound?”
“Several bits, the surgeon said.”
“I see.”
“I’m not sure you do,” Higgins answered stubbornly. “The poor guy was clunked more than once. He could have been blackjacked. And then that limb could have been hauled down from the tree. And after that he could have been pounded a couple with it. I think they thought he was dead.”
“If there was a human agent — any ‘they’ at all! A big if.” Higgins shrugged in a swift, shadowy way. “All right. I couldn’t find tracks on the lawn or in the shrubbery. Hasn’t rained lately, so why should I? Nobody in the family heard or saw anybody. He must have made a big splash, going in, but the house is fairly distant. Ellings’ room’s on the other side. The mother and the girl were asleep. The boy’s room is on the back.”
“Ground wet around the pool? That box — if it existed — would have come out dripping.”
“The ground was wet, all right. But it would have been soaked by the splash of the man and the limb anyhow. There might once have been an impress of the box on the grass—