y left the room. The innkeeper was waiting patiently in the passage,
standing motionless at the head of the staircase, with his head
inclining forward, like a marsh heron fishing in a dyke. He hastened
towards them.

"I noticed a reading-lamp by Mr. Glenthorpe's bedside, Mr. Benson," said
Colwyn. "Did he use that as well as the gas?"

"He rarely used the gas, sir, though it was put into the room at his
request. He found the reading-lamp suited his sight better."

"Did he use candles? I saw no candlestick in the room."

"He never used candles, sir--only the reading-lamp."

"When was the gas-globe smashed? Last night?"

"It must have been, sir. Ann says it was quite all right yesterday."

"I've got my own idea how that was done," said Galloway, who had been an
attentive listener to the innkeeper's replies to Colwyn's questions.
"Show the way downstairs to the back door, Mr. Benson."

The innkeeper preceded them down the stairs and along the passage to
another one, which terminated in a latched door, which he opened.

"How was this door fastened last night?" asked Galloway.

"By this bolt at the top," said the innkeeper, pointing to it. "There is
no key--only this catch."

"Is this the only back outlet from the inn?" asked Colwyn.

"Yes, sir."

At Galloway's suggestion they first went to the side of the inn, in
order to examine the ground beneath the windows. The fence enclosing the
yard had fallen into disrepair, and had many gaps in it. There were no
footprints visible in the red clay of the natural passage-way between
the inn wall and the hill, either beneath the window of Ronald's room or
Mr. Glenthorpe's window.

"The absence of footprints means nothing," said Galloway. "Ronald may
have climbed from one room to the other in his stocking feet, and then
put on his boots to remove the body. Even if he wore his boots he might
have left no marks, if he walked lightly."

"I am not so sure of that," said Colwyn. "But what do you make of this?"

He pointed to an impression in the red earth underneath Mr. Glenthorpe's
window--a line so faint as to be barely noticeable, running outward from
the wall for about eighteen inches, with another line about the same
length running at right angles from it. Superintendent Galloway examined
these two lines closely and then shook his head as though to intimate he
could make nothing of them.

"What do you think they are?" said Mr. Cromering, turning to Colwyn.

"I think