d for me to come down!" he replied. "And certainly no
need for you, Mr. Harley!"

Harley bowed, smiling, at the implied compliment.

"It's a common or garden elopement!" continued the detective. "Vane's
reputation is absolutely rotten, and the girl was clearly infatuated. He
must have cared a good bit, too. He'll be cashiered, as sure as a gun!"

Leaving Sir Howard at the Manor, we had joined Inspector Wessex at a
spot where the baronet's preserves bordered a narrow lane. Here the
ground was soft, and the detective drew Harley's attention to a number
of footprints by a stile.

"I've got evidence that he was seen here with the girl on other
occasions. Now, Mr. Harley, I'll ask you to look over these footprints."

Harley dropped to his knees and made a brief but close examination of
the ground round about. One particularly clear imprint of a pointed toe
he noticed especially; and Wessex, diving into the pocket of his light
overcoat, produced a patent-leather shoe, such as is used for evening
wear.

"He had a spare pair in his bag," he explained nonchalantly, "and his
man did not prove incorruptible!"

Harley took the shoe and placed it in the impression. It fitted
perfectly!

"This is Molly Clayton, I take it?" he said, indicating the prints of a
woman's foot.

"Yes," assented Wessex. "You'll notice that they stood for some little
time and then walked off, very close together."

Harley nodded absently.

"We lose them along here," continued Wessex, leading up the lane; "but
at the corner by the big haystack they join up with the tracks of a
motor-car! I ask for nothing clearer! There was rain that afternoon, but
there's been none since."

"What does the Captain's man think?"

"The same as I do! He's not surprised at any madness on Vane's part,
with a pretty woman in the case!"

"The girl left nothing behind--no note?"

"Nothing."

"Traced the car?"

"No. It must have been hired or borrowed from a long distance off."

Where the tracks of the tires were visible we stopped, and Harley made a
careful examination of the marks.

"Seems to have had a struggle with her," he said, dryly.

"Very likely!" agreed Wessex, without interest.

Harley crawled about on the ground for some time, to the great detriment
of his Harris tweeds, but finally arose, a curious expression on his
face--which, however, the detective evidently failed to observe.

We returned to the Manor House where Sir Howard was awaiting us