“That ought to help a lot,” said Haynes decisively. “What marks were around it?” 

 “Marks?” repeated Colton vacantly. 

 “Yes; marks, footmarks,” impatiently. 

 “Why, the fact is, I don’t know what I could have been thinking of, but I didn’t look.” 

 “The Lord forgive you!” 

 “I’ll go back now and find them.” 

 “An elephant’s spoor wouldn’t have survived half an hour of the rain we had last night,” Haynes said with evident exasperation. 

 “Miss Ravenden might have noticed something,” suggested Colton hopefully. 

 On the word Haynes was out in the hallway, up the stairs, and knocking at the girl’s door. 

 “Oh, Miss Dolly!” he called. “I want your help.” 

 “What can I do for the great Dupin, Jr.?” asked the girl, coming out into the hall. 

 “Show that you’ve profited by his learned instructions. Did you see any marks on the sand around the dead sheep?” 

 “I’m an idiot!” said the girl contritely. “I never thought to look.” 

 “It’s well that your eyes are ornamental; they’re not always useful,” said Haynes in accents of raillery which did not conceal his disappointment. 

 “What have the great Dupin, Jr.’s eyes discovered to-day?” she asked. 

 “Nothing, You and Colton have provided an unsatisfactory ending to an unsatisfactory day. I’ve been talking with the survivors of the wreck and couldn’t get any light at all. They’ve all left except ‘the Wonderful Whalley.’ He’s pretty badly bruised, and anyway he won’t go before paying his respects to Helga.” 

 “I should think not, indeed!” said Miss Ravenden. “And to you.” 

 “It’s a curious thing, but he doesn’t seem to be inspired by that devotion to me which my highly attractive character would seem to warrant. In fact he looks at me as if he would like to stick me with one of those 

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