"What did you go into the pool for?" he asked.
"I fished about with a rake. I thought there might be some
weapon or other trace. But how on earth—"
"Oh, tut, tut! I have no time! That left foot of yours with its
inward twist is all over the place. A mole could trace it, and
there it vanishes among the reeds. Oh, how simple it would all have
been had I been here before they came like a herd of buffalo and
wallowed all over it. Here is where the party with the lodge-keeper
came, and they have covered all tracks for six or eight feet round
the body. But here are three separate tracks of the same feet." He
drew out a lens and lay down upon his waterproof to have a better
view, talking all the time rather to himself than to us. "These are
young McCarthy's feet. Twice he was walking,
